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*- OF 

Z DR. EDWARD YOUNG, 
ir 



This celebrated and excellent writer was the itn 
(of Dr. Edward Young, a learned and eminent divine, 
who was Dean of Sarum, Fellow of Winchester Col- 
lege, and Rector of Upham, in Hampshire. Our author 
was born at Upham, in the year:lG81, and had his edu- 
cation>t Winchester College, till he was chosen on the 
foundation of New College, Oxford, October 13, 1703, 
but removed in less than a year to Corpus Christi, 
where he entered himself a Gentleman Commoner. 

Archbishop Tennison put him into a law fellowship 
in 1708, in the college of All Souls. He took the de- 
gree of Bachelor in 1714, and became LL. D. in 1719. 
His tragedy of Busiris came out the same year ; The 
Revenge in 1721 ; The Brothers in 1723; and soon after 
his elegant poem of The Last Day, which engaged the 
greater attention for being written by a layman. The 
Force of Religion, or Vanquished Love, a poem, also 
gave much pleasure. These works procured him the 
fi'iendship of som.e among the nobility, and the patron- 
age of the Duke of Wharton, by whom he was induced 
to stand a candidate for a seat in parliament for Ciren- 
cester, but without,success. The bias of his mind was 
strongly turned toward divinity, which drew him away 
from the law before he had begun to practise. On his 
taking orders, he was appointed Chaplain in ordinary 
to George II. in April, 1723. His first work in his new 
I thiracter was a Vindication of Providence, puttished. 



J MEMOIRS OF 

as well a^ llis Estimate of Human Life, in quarto. Soon 
after, in 1730, his college presented him to the rectory 
of Welwyn, in Hertfordshire, worth 300?. per annum, 
beside the lordship of the manor which pertained to. 
it. He married Lady Betty Lee, widow of Col. Lee, 
in 1731- She was daughter c£ the Earl of Litchfield. By. 
her he had a son. 

Notwithstanding the high estimation in which he 
was held, his familiar intercourse with many of the 
first rank, his being a great favourite of Frederick 
Prince of Wales, and paying a pretty constant attend-, 
ance at court, he never rose to higher preferment, if^. 
however, we except his being made clerk of the closet i| 
to the Princess Dowager of Wales in. 1761, when-hfr 
was fourscore years of age. 

His Jine poem of the Night Thoughts, it is well 
known, was occasioned by a family distress; the lo.ss 
of his wife and the two cliildren, a son and a daughter, 
whom she had by, her first husband; these all died I 
within a short time of each other in 1741. The son-ini, 
law is characterized in this work by the name of Phi- -j 
lander, and the young lady, who sunk into a decline j 
through grief for the loss of her mother, by that of j 
Narcissa. He removed her, in hope of her deriving; 
benefit from a warmer climate, to Montpelier, in the 
south of Frauce ; but she died soon after their arrival 
in that city. The circumstance of his being obliged 
to bury her in a field by night, not being allowed in- 
terment in the church-yard, on account of her being a 
protestant, is indelibly recorded in Night III., of this 
divine poem. 

He was upwards of eighty when he wrote his Con- 
jecture on Original Composition, in which many beau- 
ties appear, notwithstanding the age of its -author; 
and Resignation, his last poem, contains proofs in eve- 
ry stanza, that it was not written with decayed facult 
ties. He died at the parsonage house, at Welwyn, A- 
pril 12, 1765,^ aged eighty-four years, and was buried: 
uDUe? the altar-piece of that church, by tke side of liis ! 

i 



DR. EDWARD YOUNG. ?■ 

wife. By his own desire, he was followed by all the 
poor of the parish, without any tolling of the bells, or 
any person appearing at his funeral in mourning. He 
had caused all his manuscripts to be destroyed before 
his death. He left the whole of his fortune, which 
was pretty considerable, with the exception of a few 
legacies, to his son, Mr. Frederick Young, though he 
would never see him in his lifetime, owing to his dis- 
pleasure athis imprudent conduct at college, for which 
he had been expelled. 

His character was that of the true Christian Divine ; 
his heart was in his profession. It is reported, that 
once preaching in his turn at St. James's, and being un- 
able to gain attention, he sat down, and burst into tears. 
His conversation was of the same nature as his works, 
and showed a solemn cast of thought to be natural to 
him : death, futurity, judgment, eternity, were his 
common topics. When at home in the country, he 
spent many hours in the day walking among the graves 
in the church-yard. In his garden he had an alcove, 
painted as if with a bench to repose on ; on approach- 
ing near enough to discover the deception, the follow • 
ing motto was seen : 

" Invlsibilia non decipiunt." 
" The things unseen do not deceive us." 

Tu his poem of the Last Day, one of his earliest 
■works, he calls his muse " the Melancholy Maid, 

" whom dismal scenes delight, 
" Frequent at tombs, and in the realms of night." 

<jrafton is said by .Spence to have made him a present 
of a human skull, with a candle in it, to serve him for 
a lamp ; and he is reported to have used it. Yet he 
promoted an assembly and bowling-green in his parish, 
and often attended them. He would indulge in occa- 
ivonal sallies of wit, of which his well-known epigram 



,t MBIIOIRS, &c, 

on Voltaire* is a specimen ; but perhaps there w.as<> 
more of indignation than pleasantry in it, as his satire 
was ever pointed against indecency and irreligion. 
His satire, intituled The Love of Fame, or the Uni- 
versal Passion, is a great performance. The shafts of 
bis wit are directed against the folly of being devoted 
to the fashion, and aiming to appear what we are not. 
We meet here with smoothness of style, pointed sen- 
tpnces, solid sentiments, ssnd the sliarpness of resist- 
less truth. 

The jSight Thoughts abound in the most exalted 
flights, the utmost stretch of human thought, which is 
the great excellence of Young's poetry. " In his 
Night Thoughts," says a great critic, " he has exhibited 
a very wide display of original poetry, variegated with 
.leep reflections and striking allusions ; a wilderness of 
thought, in which the fertility of fancy scatters flowers 
of every hue and every odour." It must be allowed, 
however, that many of these fine thoughts are over- 
cast with the gloom of melancholy, so as to have an 
eflect rather to be dreaded by minds of a morbid hue : 
they paint, notwithstanding, with the most lively fancy, 
the feelings of the heart, the vanity of human things, 
its fleeting honours and enjoyments, and contain the 
strongest arguments in support of the immortality of 
the soul. 



* » Tkou art so witty, profligate, and thin, 
" Thov. scemst a JyJiltantWiil^ his Death and fun. 



THE 

COMPLAINT. 

mGHT I. 
Oli LIFE, DEATH, AND IMMORTAI.ITT- 



TO THE RIGHT HON. ARTHCH ONSLOT\-, ESft. 

Speaker of the House of Commons. 

Tir'd Nature's sweet restorer, balmy Sleep ! 
He, like the -world, his ready visit pays 
Where fortune smiles ; the wretched'he forsakes 
Swii't on his downy pinions flies from wo, 
And lights on lids unsullied with a tear. . 

From short (as usual) and disturb'd repose 
I wake ; how happy tiiey who wake no more ! 
Yet that were vain, if dreams infest the grave. 
I wake, emerging from a sea of dreams 
Tumultuous; where my wreck'd desponding thought, 
From wave to wave of fancied misery 
At random drove, her helm of reason lost. 
Tho' now restor'd, 'tis only change of pain, 
(A bitter change !) severer for severe. 
The day too short for my distresses ; and night. 
E'en in the zenith of her dark domain. 
Is sunshine to the colour of my fate. 

Night, sablfc goddess ! from her ebon throne, 
In rayless majesty, now stretches forth 
Her leaden sceptre o'er a slumb'ring world. 
Silence, how dead ! and darkness, how profound ^,! 
Nor eye nor list'ning ear an object finds ; 
Creation sleeps. 'Tis as the gen'ral pulse 
Of life stood still, and nature made a pause ; 
An awful pause ! prophetic of her end. 
.And let her prophecy be soon fulfiU'd : 
Fate 1 (ii'op tiie cwrtsqn 5 I fp iose »o mort, 



G THE COMPLAINT. mghll 

Silence and darkness, solemn sisters ! twins 
From ancient Night, who nurse the tender thought 
To reason, and on reason build resolve, 
(That column of true majesty in man) 
Assist me : I will thank you in the grave ; 
The grave your kingdom: there this frame shall fall 
A victim sacred to your dreary shrine. 
But what are ye '! 

Thou, who "didst put to flight 
Primeval l^ilence, when the morning stars, 
Exulting, shouted o'er the rising ball ; 

Thou, whose word from solid darkness struck 
That spark, the sun, strike wisdom from my soul : 
My soul, which flies to thee, her trust, her treasure, 
As misers to their gold, while others rest. 

Thro' this opaque of nature and of soul, 
This double night, transmit one pitying ray, 
To lighten and to cheer. O lead my mind, 
(A mind that fain would wander froin its w*) 
Lead it thro' various scenes of life and death, 
And from each scene the noblest truths inspire. 
Nor less inspire my conduct than my song ; 
Teach my best reason, reason; my best will 
Teach rectitude; and rix nij^ firm resolve 
Wisdom to wed, and pay her long arrear : 
Nor let the phia! of thy vengeance, pour'd 
On this devoted head, be pour'd in vain. 

The bell strikes One. We take no note of tims 
But from its less : to give it then a tongue 
Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke, 

1 feel the solemn .sound. If heard aright, 
It is the knell of my departed hOurs. 

Where are they ? With the years beyond the flood. 

It is the signal that demands despatch : 

How much is to be done ? My hopes and fears 

Start up alarm'd, and o'er life's narrow verge 

IjOok down — on what 1 A fathomless abyss ; 

A dread eternity ! how surely mine ! 

And can eternity belong to me, 

Poor pensioner on the bounties of an hour? 

How poor, how rich, how abject, how august, 
How complicate, how wonderful, is man ! 
How passing wonder HE who made him such ! 
Who center'd in our make such strange extremes ! 
From dilferent natures, marvellously mix'd, 
-Connection exquisite of distant worlds !_ 
pistinguish'd link in being's endless chaia! 
MidT^ay frouj xjothing to the lieity ! 



ON LIFE, DEATH, &c. 7 

A beam ethereal, sullied and absorpt ! 

Tho' sullied and dishonour'd, still divine '. 

Dim miniature of greatness absolute ! 

An heir of glory ' a frail child of dust! 

Helpless immortal ! insect infinite ! 

A worm ! a god !— I tremble at myself, 

And in myself am lost. At home a stranger. 

Thought wanders up and down, surpris'd, aghast, 

And wond'ring at her own. How reason reels ! 

O what a miracle to man is man, 

Triumphantly distress'd ! what joy ! what dread I ' 

Alternately transported and alarm'd ! 

What can preserve my life ? or what destroy? 

An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave ; 

Legions of angels can't confine me there. 

'Tis past conjecture : all things rise in proof. 
While o'er my limbs sleep's soft dominion spreads, 
What tho' my soul fantastic measures trod 
O'er fairy fields, or mourn'd along the gloom 
Of pathless woods, or down the craggy steep 
Hurl'd headlong, swam with pain the mantled pool, 
Or scal'd the cliff, or danc'd on hollow winds 
With antic shapes 1 wild natives of tlie brain ! 
Her ceaseless flight, tho' devious, speaks her nature 
Of subtler essence than the trodden clod,. 
Active, aerial, tow'ring, unconfin'd, 
Unfetter'd with her gross companion's fall. 
E'en silent night proclaims my soul immortal; 
E'en silent night proclaims eternal day. 
For Human weal heaven husbands all events: 
Dull sleep instructs, nor sport vain dreams in vain. 

Why then their loss deplore that are not lost? 
Why M-anders wretched Thought their tombs around 
In infidel distress? Are angels there ? 
Slumbers, rak'd up in dust, ethereal fire? 

They live ! they greatly live a life on earth 
Unkindled, unconceiv'd, and from an eye 
Of tenderness, let heavenly pity fall 
On me, more justly number'd with the dead. 
This is the desert, this the solitude : 
How populous, liow vital is the grave '• 
This is creation's melancholy vault, 
The vale funereal, the sad cypress gloom i 
[The land of apparitions, empty shades 1 
All, all on earth is shadow, all beyond 
lis substance ; the reverse is folly's creed : 
iiow soiid all Tvbere chaoge sbaii be no more ! 



. THE COMPLAINT. Night L 

This is the bud of being, the dim dawn, 
The twilight of our day, the vestibule 
Life's theatre as yet is shut, and Death, 
Stron- Death, alone can heave the massy baV, 
This Iross impediment of clay remove. 
And make us embryos of existence free. 
From real life, but little more reniote 
Is he not yet a candidate for light, _ 
The future embryo, slumb'ring i" Ji^ s'^e 
Embryos we must be till we burst the shell, 
Yon ambient azure shell, ^nd spring to Me, 
The life of Gods (O transport !) and of man. 

Yet man, fool man '• here buries all his thoughfe; 
Tntprs celestial hopes without one sigh. 
Prs'ner of earth, a'nd pent beneath the moon 
Here pinions all his Atishes ; wing'd by Heav'n 
To fly at infinite, and reach it there, 
Where seraphs gather immortality. 
On Life's fair tree, fast by the throne of God. 
What golden joys ambrosial clust'nug glow 
In his full beam, and ripen for the just, 
Whpre momentary ages are no more ! ^ ^^ . , 
W ere Se and Pain, and Chance, and Death expire'. 
And is it in the flight of threescore years 
To push eternity from human thought, 
And smother souls immortal in the dust? 
A ^oul immortal, spending all her fires, 
Wasting her strength in strenuous idleness, 
Thrown into tumult, raptur'd or alarm d 
At au'-ht this scene can threaten or indulge, 
Resembles ocean into tempest wrought, 
To ■s\art a feather, or to drown a fly. 

Where falls this censure? It o'erwhelma myself. 
How was my heart incrusted by the wor d ! 
O how self-fetter'd was my groVling soul . 
How, like a worm, was I wrapt round and round 
fn silken thought, which reptile Fancy spun, 
Till darken'd reason lay quite clouded o'er 
With soft conceit of endless comfort here, _ 
Nor yet put forth her wings to reach the skies ! 

Night-visions may befriend (as sung above:) 
Our waking dreams are fatal. How I dreamt 
Of things impossible ! (could sleep do more !) 
Of iovs perpetual in perpetual change . 
Of stable pleasures on the tossing wave ! 
Eternal sunshine in the storms of life . . 

How richly were my noontide trances hung - * 

With .gorgeous tapestries of pictur d joy s . 



ON LIFE, DEATH, kc. - 

Joy behind joy, in endless perspective ! 

Till at Death's toll, whose restless iron tongue 

Calls daily for his millions at a meal, 

Starting I woke, and found myself undone. 

Where's now my frenzy's pompous furniture? 

The cobwebb'd cottage, with its ragged wall 

Of mould'ring mud, is royalty to me I 

The spider's most attenuated thread 

Is cord, is cable, to man's tender tie 

On earthly bliss ; it breaks at every breeze. 

O ye blest scenes of permanent delight ! 
Full above measure ! lasting beyond bound J 
A perpetuity of bliss is bliss. 
Could you, so rich in rapture, fear an end. 
The ghastly thought would drink up all your joy, 
And quite unparadise the realms of light. 
Safe are you lodg'd above these rolling spheres ; 
The baleful influence of whose giddy dance 
Sheds sad vicissitude on all beneath. 
Here teems with revolutions ev'ry hour, 
And rarely for the better; or the best 
More mortal than the common births of Fate. 
Each moment has its sickle, emulous 
Of Time's enormous sithe, whose ample sweep 
Strikes empires from the root; each moment plays 
His little weapon in the narrower sphere 
Of sweet domestic comfort, and cuts down 
The fairest bloom of sublunary bliss. 

Bliss ! sublunary bliss ! — proud words, and vain ! 
Implicit treason to divine decree ! 
A bold invasion of the rights of Heav'n ! 
I clasp'd the phantoms, and I found them air. 
O had I weigh'd it ere my fond embrace ! 
What darts of agony had m.iss'd my heart.' 

Death ! greatproprietor of all ! 'tis thine 
To tread out empire, and to quench the stars. 
The sun himself by thy permission shines, 
And, one day, thou shalt pluck him from his sphere. 
Amidst such mighty plunder, why exhaust 
Thy partial quiver on a mark so mean? 
Why thy peculiar rancour wreak'd on me? 
Insatiate Archer ! could not one suffice? 
Thy shaft flew thrice, and thrice ray peace was slain 
And thrice, ere thrice yon moon had filled her horn. 
O Cynthia ! why so pale I dost thou lament 
Thy wretched neighbour ? grieve to see thy wheel 
Of ceaseless change outwhirl'd in human life ? 
How wanes my borrowed bliss ! from Fortune's smiJC; 
A 2 



)0 THE COIVIPLAINT. Mgkt I. 

Precarious courtesy ! not virtue's sure, 
Self-given, solar, ray of sound delight. 

In ev'ry vari'd posture, place, and hour, 
How Tvidow'd ev'ry thought of ev'ry joy ! 
Thought, busy thought ! too busy for my peace .' 
Thro' the dark postern of time long elaps'd, 
Led softly, by the stillness of the night, 
J,ed, like a murderer (and such it proves !) 
Strays (wretched rover .') o'er the pleasing past : 
In quest of wretchedness perversely strays ; 
And finds all desert now ; and meets the ghosts 
Of my departed ,joys, a num'rous train ! 
I rue the riches of my former fate ; 
Sweet Comfort's blasted clusters I lament; 
I tremble at the blessings once so dear. 
And ev'ry pleasure pains me to the heart. 

Yet why complain? or why complain for one? 
Hangs out the sun his lustre but for me, 
The single man 1 are angels all beside ? 
1 mourn for millions ; 'tis the common lot: 
In this shape, or in that, has Fate entail'd 
The mother's throes on all of Avoman born, 
Iv'ot more the children than sure heirs of pain. 

War, famine, pest, volcano, storm and fire, 
Intestine broils, Oppression, with her heart 
Wrapt up in triple brass, besiege mankind. 
God's image, disinherited of day, 
Here, plung'd in mines, forgets a sun was made; 
There, beings, deathless as their haughty lord, 
Are hammer'd to the galling oar for life. 
And plough the winter's wave, and reap despair. 
Some for hard masters, broken under arms, 
In battle lopp'd away, with half their limbs. 
Beg bitter bread thro' realms their valour sav'd, 
If so the tyrant, or his minion doom. 
Want, and incurable disease (fell pair !) 
On hopeless multitudes remorseless seize 
At once, and make a refuge of the grave. 
How groaning hospitals eject their dead ! 
What numbers groan for sad admission there ! 
What numbers, once in Fortune's lap high fed, 
Solicit the cold hand of charity ! 
To shock us more, solicit it in vain ! 
Ye silken sons of Pleasure ! since in pains 
You rue more modish visits, visit here. 
And breathe from your debauch; give, and reduce 
Surfeit's dominion o'er you. But so great 
Your impudence, you blush at what is right. 



ON LIFE, DEATH, &c. IJ 

Happy ! did sorrow seize on such alone, 
Not prudence can defend, or virtue save; 
Disease invades the chastest temperance, 
And punishment the guiltless; and alarm, 
Thro' thickest shades, pursues the fond of peace^ 
Man's caution often into danger turns, 
And, his guard falling, crushes him to death. 
Not happiness herself makes good her name ; 
Our very wishes give us notour wish. 
How distant oft the thing we doat on most 
From that for which we doat, felicity ! 
The smoothest course of Nature has its pains, 
And truest friends, thro' error, wound our rest. 
Without misfortune what calamities ! 
And what hostilities without a foe ! 
Nor are foes wanting to the best on earth. 
But endless is the list of human ills, 
And sighs might sooner fail, than cause to sigh. 

A part how small of the terraqueous globe 
Is tenanted by man ! the rest a waste ; 
Hocks, deserts, frozen seas, and burning sands ! 
Wild haunts of monsters, poisons, stings, and death. 
Such is earth's melancholy map ! but far 
More sad ! this earth is a true map of man : 
So bounded are its haughty lord's delights 
To wo's wide empire, where deep troubles toss, 
IjOud sorrows howl, envenom'd passions bite, 
Rav'nous calamities our vitals seize, 
And threat'uing Fate wide opens to devour. 

What then am I, who sorrow for myself ? 
In age, in infancy, from other's aid 
Is all our hope ; to teach us to be kind. 
That Nature's first, last lesson to mankind; 
The selfish heart deserves the pain it feels : 
More gen'rous sorrow, while it sinks, exalts ; 
And conscious virtue mitigates the pang. 
Nor virtue more than prudence bids me give 
Swol'n thought a second channel ; who divide, 
They weaken too, the torrent of their grief. 
Take, then, O world ! thy much indebted tear; 
How sad a sight is human happiness 
To those whose thought can pierce beyond an hour! 

thou ! whate'er thou art, whose heart exults ! 
Wouldst thou I should congratulate thy fate ? 

1 know thou wouldst ; thy pride demands it from mc. 
Let thy pride pardon what thy nature needs, 

llie salutary censure of a friend. 

Thou happy wretch 1 by blindness thou art bless'd; 



12 THE COMPLAINT. Ifight I. 

By dotage dandled to perpetual smiles. 

Know, Smiler ! at thy peril art thou pleas'd ; 

Thy pleasure is the promise of thy pain. 

Misfortune, like a creditor severe, 

But rises in demand for her delay ; 

She makes a scourge of past prosperity, 

To sting thee more, and double thy distre?i?. 

Lorenzo, Fortune makes her court to thee : 
Thy fond heart dances while the Syren sings. 
Dear is thy welfare ; think me not unkind; 
1 would not damp, but to secure thy joys. 
Think not that fear is sacred to the storm. 
Htand on thy guard against the smiles of Fate. 
Is Heav'n tremendous in its frowns ? most sure ; 
And in its favours formidable too: 
Its favours here are trials, not rewards ; 
A call to duty, not discharge from care; 
And should alarm us full as much as woes; 
Awake us to their cause and consequence, 
And make us tremble, weigh'd with our desert ; 
Awe nature's tumults, and chastise her joys, 
Lest, while we clasp, we kill them; nay, invert 
To worse than simple misery their charms. 
Revolted joys, like foes in civil war, 
Like bosom friendships to resentment sour'd, 
With rage envenom'd rise against our peace. 
Beware what earth caUs happiness; beware 
All joys, but joys that never can expire. 
Who builds on less than an immortal base, 
Fond as he seems, condemns his joys to death. 

Mine died with thee. Philander ! thy last sigh 
Dissolv'dthe ciiarm; the disenchanted earth 
Lost aU her lustre. Where her glitt'rmg tow'rs ! 
Her golden mountains where 1 All darken'd down 
To naked waste; a dreary vale of tears : 
The great magician's dead ! Thou poor pale piece 
Of outcast earth, in darkness ! what a change 
From yesterday ! Thy darling hope so near, 
(Long laboured prize !) O how ambition llush'd 
Thy glowing cheek ! ambition, truly great, 
Of virtuous praise. Death's subtle seed within, 
(Sly treach'rous miner !) working in the dark, 
f^mil'd at thy well-concerted scheme, and beckon'd 
The worm to riot on that rose so red, ' 

Unfaded ere it fell ; one moment's prey ! 

Man's foresight is conditionally \\k^; 
I,orenzo ! wisdom into felly turns 
Oft the first io$taut its idea faii- 



ON LIFE, DEATH, &c. 13 

To labouring thought is born. How dim our eye I 

The present moment terminates our sight; 

Clouds, thick as those on Doomsday, drown the next; 

We penetrate, we prophesy in vain. 

Time is dealt out by particles, and each. 

Ere mingled with the streaming sands of life, 

By Fate's inviolable oath is sworn 

Deep silence, " Where eternity begins." 

By Nature's law, what may be, may be now; 
There's no prerogative in human hours. 
In human hearts what bolder thought can rise 
Than man's presumption on to-morrow's dawn ? 
Where is to-morrow ? In another world. 
For numbers this is certain; the reverse 
Is sure to none ; and yet on this Perhaps, 
This Peradventure, infamous for lies, 
As on a rock of adamant we build 
Our mountain-hopes, spin out eternal schemCK, 
As we the Fatal Sisters would out-spin, 
And, big with life's futuritie-, expire. 

Not e'en Philander had bespoke his shroud : 
Nor had he cause ; a warning was denied : 
How many fall as sudden, not as safe ; 
As sudden, tho' for years admonish'd home ! 
Of human ills the last extreme beware ; 
Beware, Lorenzo ! a slow sudden deatli. 
How dreadful that deliberate surprise 1 
Be wise to-day ; 'tis madness to defer : 
Next day the fatal precedent will plead ; 
Thus on, till wisdom is push'd out of life- 
Procrastination is the thief of time"; 
Year after year it steals, till all are fled. 
And to the mercies of a moment leaves 
The vast concerns of an eternal scene. 
Ifnotsofrequent, would not this be strange;.' 
'i'hat 'tis so frequent, tliis is stranger still. 

Of man's miraculous mistakes, this bears 
The palm, " That all men are about to live," 
For ever on the brink of being born. 
All pay themselves the compliment to think 
They one day shall not drivel ; and their pride 
On this reversion takes up ready praise ; 
At least their own ; their future selves applauds ; 
How excellent that life they ne'er will lead ! 
Time lodg'd in their own hands is Folly's vales ; 
That lodg'd in Fate's, to wisdom they consign; 
The thing they can't but purpose they postpone j 
'Tis not in folly not to scorn a fool; 
Apd scarce in human wisdom to do mere. 



U THE COMPLAINT. JSight T. 

All promise is poor dilatory man, 

And that thro' every stage : Wl'«n young, indeed, 

In full content v,e sometimes nobly rest, 

Unanxious for ourselves, and only wish, 

As duteous sOiis, our fathers were more wise. 

At thirty, man suspects himself a fool ; 

Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan; 

A.t fifty chides his infamous delay, 

Pushes his prudent purpose to resolve ; 

In all the magnanimity of thought 

Resolves, and re-resolves ; then dies the same. 

And why? because he thinks himself immortal. 
All men think all men mortal but themselves : 
Themselves, when some alarming shock of Fate 
Strikes thro' their wounded hearts the sudden dread ; 
But their hearts wounded, like the wounded air. 
Soon close ; where past the shaft no trace is found, 
As from the wing no scar the sky retains. 
The parted ivave no furrow from the keel ; 
So dies in human hearts the thought of death. 
E'en with the tender tear, which Nature sheds 
O'er those we love, we drop it in their grave. 
Can I forget Philander ? that were strange I 

my full' heart !— But should I give it vent, 
The longest night, tho' longer far, would fail, 
And the lark listen to my midnight song. 

The sprightly lark's shrill matin wakes the morn; 
Grief's sharpest thorn hard pressing on my breast, 

1 strive, with wakeful melodj"-, to cheer 
The sullen gloom, sweet Philomel ! like thee, 
And call the stars to listen : ev'ry star 

Is deaf to mine, enamour'd of thy lay. 

Yet be not vain; there are who thine excel. 

And charm thro' distant ages. Wrapt in s^adc, 

Pris'ncr of darkness ! to the silent hours 

How often I re])eat their rage divine, 

To lull my griels, and steal my heart from wo ! 

I roll their raptures, but not catch their fire. 

Dark, tho' not blind, like thee, Maronides ! 

Or, Milton, thee ! Ah, could 1 reach your strain ! 

Or his who made Masonides our own. 

Man, tpo, he sung ; immortal man 1 sing. 

Oft bursts my song beyond the bounds of life ; 

What now but immortality can pleuse 'I 

O h'id he press'd his theme, pursu'd the track 

Which opens ont of darkness into day ! 

O had he mounted on his wings of fire, 

Soar'd where I sink, and sung immortal man ! 

How hud it bJeit mankind, ani reicu'd lae? 



THE 

COMPLAINT. 

NIGHT II. 
ON TIME, DEATH, AND FRIE:::rDSHIP 



TO THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF WILMINGTON'. 

When the cock crew he wept— smote by that ey« 
Which looks on me, on all; that pow'r who bids 
This midnight sentinel, with clarion shrill, 
(Emblem of that which shall awake the dead) 
Rouse souls from slumber into thoughts of Heav'n. 
SJiall I too weep? where then is fortitude .' 
And fortitude abandon'd, where is man ! 
I know the terms on which he sees tne light : 
He that is born is listed; life is war; 
Eternal war with wo : who bears it best 
Deserves it least. On other themes I'll dwell. 
Lorenzo ! let me turn my thoughts on thee ; 
And thine, on themes may profit; profit there 
Where most thy need. Themes, too, the genuine growth 
Of dear Philander's dust. He thus, tho' dead, 
May still befriend— What themes? Time's wondrous 

price, 
Death, friendship, and Philander's final scene ! 

So could I touch these themes as might obtain 
Thine ear, nor leive thy heart quite disengag'd, 
The good deed would delight me ; half impress 
On my dark cloud an Iris, and from grief 
Call glory. Dost thou mourn Philander's fate? 
I know thou say'st it : says thy life the same .' 
He'mourns the dead, who lives as they desire. 
Where is that thrift, that avarice of time, _ 
(O glorious avarice !) thought of death inspires, 
As rumour'd robberies endear our gold ? 



U THE COMPLAINT. mght IT. 

O Time '■ than gold more sacred ; more a load 
Than lead to fools, and fools reputed wise. 
What moment granted man without account ? 
What years are squander'd, Wisdom's debt unpaid ! 
Our wealth in days all due to that discharge. 
Haste, haste, he'lies in wait, he's at the door. 
Insidious Death ! should his strong hand arrest, 
Ifo composition sets the pris'ner free. 
Eternity's inexorable chain 
Fast binds, and vengeance claims the full arrear. 

How late I shudder'd on the brink ! how late 
Ijfe call'd for her last refuge in despair ! 
That time is mine, O Mead ! to thee I owe; 
Fain would I pay thee with eternity; 
But ill my genius answers my desire : 
My sickly song is mortal, past thy cure. 
Accept the will; — that dies not with my strain. 

For what calls thy disease, Lorenzo? Not 
For Esculapian, but for moral aid: 
Thou think'st it folly to be wise too soon. 
Youth is not rich in time ; it may be, poor; 
Part with it as with money, sparing ; pay 
No moment, but in purchase of its worth; 
And what its worth, ask death-beds ; they can telJ. 
Part with it as with life, reluctant; big 
With holy hope of nobler time to come : 
Time higher aini'd, still nearer the great mark 
Of men and angels : virtue more divine. 

Is this our duty, wisdom, glory, gain ? 
(These Heav'n benign in vital union binds) 
And sport we like the natives of the bough, 
When vernal suns inspire ? Amusement reigns 
P*Ian's great demand : to trifle is to live : 
And is it then a trifle, too, to die ? 

Thou say'st I preach, Lorenzo ! 'Tis confess'd. 
What if, lor once, I preach thee quite awake ? 
Who wants amusement in the flame of battle! 
Is it not treason to the soul immortal, 
Her foes in arms, eternity the prize? 
Will toys amuse when med'cines cannot cure ? 
When spirits ebb, when life's enchanting scenes 
Their lustre lose, and lessen in our sight, 
As lands and cities with their glitt'ring spires, 
To the poor shatter'd bark, by sudden storm 
Thrown off to sea, and soon to perish there, 
Will toys amuse ? No ; thrones will then be toys, 
And earth and skies seem dust upon the scale. 

Kedeem we time ?— Its loss we dearly buy. 



ON TIME, DEATH, &c. 17 

What pleads Lorenzo for his high-priz'd sports ? 
He pleads time's num'rous blanks; he loudly pleads 
The straw-like trifles on life's common stream. 
From whom those blanks and trifles but from thee ? 
No blank, no trifle, Nature made, or meant. 
Virtue, or purpos'd virtue, still be thine ; 
This cancels thy complaint at once_: this leaves 
In act no trifle, and no blank in time. 
This greatens, fills, immortalizes all; 
This the bless'd art of turning all to gold : 
This the good heart's prerogative to raise 
A royal tribute from the poorest hours ; 
Immense revenue ! ev'ry moment pays. 
If nothing more than purpose in thy yow'r, 
Thy purpose firm is equal to the deed: 
Who does the best his circumstance allows, 
Does well, acts nobly; angels could no more. 
Our outward act, indeed, admits restraint; 
'Tis not in things o'er thought to domineer; 
Guard well thy thought; our thoughts are heard in 
heav'n. 

On all important time, thro' ev'r)' age, 
Tho' much, and warm, the wise have urg'd; the man 
Is yet unborn who duly weighs an hour. 
" I've lost a day" — the prince who nobly cried, 
Had been an emperor without his crown ; 
Of Rome ? Say, rather, lord of human race ! 
He spoke as if deputed bj^ mankind. 
So should all speak : so reason speaks in all ; 
From the soft whispers of that God in man, 
Wliy fly to folly, why to frenzy fly. 
For rescue from the blessings we possess I 
Time, the supreme ! — Time is eternity ; 
Pregnant with all eternity can give ; 
Pregnant with all that makes archangels smile. 
Who murders Time, he crushes in the birth 
A pow'r ethereal, only not ador'd. 

Ah ! how unjust to Nature and himself 
Is thoughtless, thankless, inconsistent man ! 
Like children babbling nonsense in their sports, 
We censure Nature for a span too short ; 
That span too short we tax as tedious too ; 
Torture invention, all expedients tire, 
To lash the ling'ring moments into .'^peed. 
And whirl us (happy riddance !) from ourselves. 
Art, brainless art ! our furious charioteer, 
( For Nature's voice unstifled wo uld recal) 
Drives headlong toward the precipice of death, 



R THE complaint: Nighim 

Death most our dread ; death thus more dreadful madfl; 

Owhat a ridiUe of absurdity ! 

Jjeisure i3 pain ; takes olTour chariot-wheels ; 

How heavily we drag the load of life ! 

Bless'd leisure is our curse ; like that of Cain, 

It makes us wander, wander earth around, 

To fly that tyrant Thought. As Atlas groan'd 

The world beneath, we groan beneath an hour. 

We cry for mercy to the next amusement ; 

The next amusement mortgages our fields ; 

Slight inconvenience ! prisons hardly frowc, 

From hateful time if prisons set us free. 

Yet when death kindly tenders us relief, 

We call him cru^-l ; years to moments shrink, 

Ages to years. The telescope is turn'd. 

To man's false optics (from his foiiy false) 

Time, in advance, behind him hides his wings, 

And seems to creep decrepit with his age ; 

Behold him when pass'd by ; what then is seen 

But his broad pinions, swifter than the winds ? 

And all mankind, in contradiction strong. 

Rueful, aghast i cry out on his career. 

Leave to thy foes these errors and these ills ; 
To Nature .just, their cause and cure explore. 
Not short Heav'n's bounty ; boundless our expense ; 
No niggard Nature ; men are prodigals. 
We waste, not use our time : we breathe, not live. 
Time wasted is existence, us'd is life ; 
And bare existence, man, to live ordaJn'd, 
Wrings and oppresses with enormous weight. 
And why '! since time was given for use, not waste, 
Enjoin'd to fly ; with tempest, tide, and stars, 
To keep his speed, nor ever wait for man ; 
Time's use was doom'd a pleasure, waste, a pain; 
That man might feel his error if unseen, 
And feeling, fly to labour for his cure ; 
Not blund'ring, split on idleness for ease. 
Life's cares are comforts; suchby Heav'n design'd; 
He that has none must make them, or be wretched, 
Cares are employments ; and without employ 
The soul is on the rack ; the rack of rest, 
To souls most adverse ; action all their joy. 

Here, then, the riddle, mark'd above, unfolds ; 
Then time turns torment, when man turns a fool. 
We rave, we wrestle with great Nature's plan ; 
We thwart the Deity ; and 'tis decreed, 
Who thwart his will shall contradict their owe. 
Hence our uonat'ral quarrel with ourgelTes -y. 



ON TIME, DEATH, &c. ^9 

Our thoughts at enmity ; our bosom broil : 

We push Time from us, and we wish him back ; 

Lavish of lustrums, and yet fond of life ; 

Life we think long and siibrt •, death seek and shun ; 

Body and soul, like peevish man and wife, 

United jar, and yet are loath to part. 

Oh the dark days of vanity ! while here, 
How tasteless ! and how terrible when gone ! 
Gone ! they ne'er go ; when past, they haunt us still ; 
The spirit walks of ev'ry day deceas'd, 
And smiles an angel, or a fury frowns. 
]S'or death nor life delight us. If time past 
And time possess'd both pain us, what can please ? 
That which the Deity to please ordain'd, 
Time us'd. The man who consecrates his hours 
By vig'rous effort and an honest aim. 
At once he draws the sting of life and death ; 
He walks with Nature, and her paths are jteace. 

Our error's cause and cure are seen I see next 
Time's nature, origin, importance, speed ; 
And thy great aim from urging his career.— 
All-sensual man, because untouch'd, unseen, 
He looks on time as nothing Nothing else 
Is truly man's ; 'tis fortune's— Time's a god. 
Hast thou ne'er heard of Time's omnipotence ? 
For, or against, what wonders can he do ! 
And will : to stand blank neuter he disdains. 
!Not on those terms was Time (Heav'u's stranger) sen ' 
On his important embassy to man. 
Lorenzo ! no : on the long destin'd hour, 
From everlasting ages growing ripe, 
That memorable hour of wondrous birth, 
When the Dread Sire, on emanation bent, 
And big with Nature, rising in his might, 
Call'd forth creation (for then Time was born) 
By Godhead streaming thro' a thousand worlds ; 
?f ot on those terms, from the great days of hcaT'u, 
From old Eternity's mysterious orb 
Was Time cut off, and cast beneath the skies ; 
The skies, Avhich watch him in his new abode, 
Measuring his motions by re voiving spheres ; 
That horologe machinery divine. 
Hours, days, and months, and years, his children play, 
Like num'rous wings, around him, as he flies ; 
Or rather, as unequal plumes, they shape 
His ample pinions, swiff as darted flame. 
To gain his goal, to reach his ancient resf; 
Aad ioJQ aasi? Eteraity bis she ; 



:« THE COMPLAINT. Mght If. 

In his immutability to nest, 

Wlien worlds, that count his circles now, unhing'd, 
(Fate the loud signal sounding) headlong rush 
To timeless night and chaos, whence they rose. 

Why spur the speedy 1 why with levities 
New-wing thy short, short day's too rapid flight ? 
Know'st thou, or what thou dost, or what is done J 
Man flies from time, and time from man, too sooa 
In sad divorce this double flight must end ; 
And then where are we ? where, Lorenzo, thea 
Tliy sports, thy pomps ! I grant thee, in a state 
Not unambitious ; in the rufiied shroud. 
Thy Parian tomb's triumphant arch beneath. 
Has Death his fopperies ? Then well may life 
Put on her plum.e, and in her rainbow shine. 

Ye well array 'd ! ye lilies of our land ! 
Ye lilies male ! who neither toil nor spin, 
(As sister lilies might) if not so wise 
As Solomon, more sumptuous to the sight! 
Ye delicate ! who nothing can support, 
Yourselves most insupportable ! for whom 
The winter rose must blow, the sun put on 
A brighter beam in Leo ; silky-soft 
Favoi'ius ! breathe still softer, or be chid ; 
And other worlds send odours, sauce, and song. 
And robes, and notions, fram'.d in foreign loome I 
O ye Lorenzos of our age ! who deem 
One moment unamus'd a misery 
Not made for feeble man ; who call aloud 
For ev'ry bauble drivell'd o'er by sense, 
For rattles and conceits of ev'ry cast ; 
For change of follies and relays of joy, 
To drag your patient thro' the tedious lengtto 
Of a short winter's day— say. Sages, say ! 
Wit's Oracles ; say, Dreamers of gay dreams ) 
How will you weather an eternal night, 
Where such expedients fail? 

O treach'rous Conscience ! while she seems to sleep 
On rose and myrtle, luU'd with Syren song; 
While she seems nodding o'er her charge, to drop 
On headlong appetite the slacken'd rein, 
And give us up to license, unrecall'd, 
Unmark'd;— see, from behind her secret stand; 
The sly informer minutes ev'ry fault, 
And her dread diary with horror fills. 
Not the gross act alone employs her pes j 
She reconnoitres Fancy's airy band, 
A TvatQUIul foe ! the formidabie gpy, 



G2f TIME, DEATH, kc. 21 

Ijist'ning, o'erhears the •whispers of our camp ; 

Our dawning purposes of heart explores, 

And steals our embryos of iniquity. 

As all rapacious usurers conceal 

Their Doomsday-book from all-consuming heirs ; 

Thus, with indulgence most severe, she treats 

Us spendthrifts of inestimable time ; 

Unnoted, notes each moment misapplied; 

In leaves more durable than leaves of brass. 

Writes our whole history, which death shall read 

In ev'ry pale delinquent's private ear, 

And Judgment publish ; publish to more worlds 

Than this ; and endless age in groans resound. 

Lorenzo, such that sleeper in thy breast I 

"Such is her slumber, and her vengeance such 

For slighted counsel -. such thy future peace ! 

And thinlc'st thou still thou canst be wise too soon } 
But why en time so lavish is my song? 

On this great theme kind iVature keeps a school, 

To teach her sons herself. Each night we die ; 

Each morn are born aneAv ; each day a life ! 

And shall we kill each day? If trifling kills, 

Sure vice must butcher. O what heaps of slain 

Cry out for vengeance on us ! Time destroy 'd 

Is suicide, where more than blood is spilt. 

Time flies, death urges, knells call, Heav'n invites, 

Hell threatens : all exerts ; in effbrt all ; 

More than creation labours ! labours more. 

And is there in creation, what, amidst 

This tumult universal, %ving'd despatch, 

And ardent energy, supinely yawns? — 

I\tan sleeps, and man alone ; and man whose fate, 

Fate irreversible, entire, extreme, 

Endless, hair-hung, breeze-shaken, o'er the gulf 

A moment trembles ; drops ! and man, for whom 

All else is in alarm ; man, the sole cause 

Of tins surrounding storm ! and yet he sleeps, 

As the storm rock'd to rest. — Throw years away? 

Throw empires, and be blameless. Moments seize, 

Heav'n's on their wing : a moment we may wish, , 

When worlds want wealth to buy. Bid day staad still ; ' 

lUd him drive back his car, and re-import 

The period past, re-give the giv'n hour. 

lx)renzo, more than miracles we want ; 

Lorenzo — O for yesterdays to come ! 

Such is the language of the man awake ; 
His ardour such for what oppresses the*. 
Ar.d w liis syrdpitf vaiD, ioreaao 1 iiQ{ 



23 THE COlVrPLATNT. mglittl. 

That more than miracle the gods indulge. 
To-day is yesterday return'd ; return'd, 
FuU-power'd to cancel, expiate, raise, adorn. 
And reinstate us on the rock of peace. 
l<et it not share its predecessor's fate, 
Nor, like its elder sisters, die a fool. 
Shall it evaporate in fume, fly oft* 
'Fuliginous, and stain us deeper still? 
Shall we be poorer for the plenty pour'd ? 
More wretched for the clemencies of Heav'n? 

Where shall 1 find him ? Angels, tell me where.; 
You know him ; he is near you ; point him out. 
Shall I see glories beaming from his brow. 
Or trace his footsteps by the rising flowers ? 
Your golden wings, now hov'ring o'er him, shed 
Protection ; now are waving in applause 
'J'o that blest son of foresight ; lord of fate ! 
That awful independent on to-morrow ! 
Whose work is done ; who triumphs In the past; 
Whose yesterdays look backward with a smile ; 
JVor, like the Parthian, wound him as tliey fly : 
Q'hat common but opprobrious lot! Past hours, 
If not by guilt, yet wound us by their flight, 
If folly "bounds our prospect by the grave, 
All feeling of futurity benurab'd; 
All god-like passion for eternals quench'd; 
All relish of realities expir'd; 
lienounc'd all correspondence with the skies; 
Our freedom chain'd; quite wingless our desire; 
In sense dark-prison'd all that ought to soar; 
Prone to the centre ; crawling in the dust ; 
Dismounted ev'ry great and glorious aim; 
Embruted ev'ry faculty divine ; 
Heart-buried in the rubbish of the world ; 
The world, that gulf of souls, immortal souls, 
Souls elevate, angelic, wing'd with fire 
To reach the distant skies, and triumph there 
Onthrones.which shall not mourn their masters chang'<^ 
Tho' we from earth, ethereal they that fell. 
Such veneration due, O man ! to man. 

Who venerate themselves the world despise. 
For what, gay friend, is this escutcheon'd world, 
Which hangs out death in one eternal night? 
A night, that glooms us in the noon-tide ray. 
And wraps our thought, at banquets, in the shroud. 
Life's little stage is a small eminence. 
Inch-high the grave above ; that home of man. 
Where dwells the multitude; we gaze around ; 



ON TIME, DEATH, &c. £S 

Wc read their monument; we sigh ; and while 
We sigh, we sink — and are what we deplor'd; 
Lamenting, or lamented, all our lot! 

Is death at distance ? No : he has been on thee ; 
And giv'n -ure earnest of his final blow. , 
Those hours which lately smil'd, where are they nov* ' 
Pallid to thought, and ghastly ! drown'd, all drown'd 
In that great deep, which nothing disembogues ! 
And, dying, they bequeath'd thee ^mall renown. 
The rest are on "the wing : how fleet their liighti 
Already has the fatal train took fire ; 
A moment, and the world's blown up to thee ; 
The sun is darkness, and the stars are dust. 

'Tis greatly wise to talk with our past hours ; 
And ask them what report they bore to heav'n ; ,^ 
And how they might have borne more welcome news. 
Their answers form what men experience call; 
If Wisdom's friend, her best; if not, worst foe. 
O reconcile tiiem ! kind experience cries, 
" There's nothing here, but what as nothing weighs, 
" The more our .joy, the more we know it vain; 
" And by success are tutor'd to despair." 
Nor is it on-ly thus, but must be so. 
Who knows not this, tho' gray, is still a child. 
Loose then from earth the grasp offend desire, 
Weigh anchor, and some happier clime explore. 

Art thou so moor'd thou canst not disengage, 
Nor give thy thoughts a ply to future scenes ] 
Since by life's passing breath, blown up from earth. 
Light as the summer's dust, we take in air 
A moment's giddy flight, and fall again; 
Join the dull mass, increase the trodden soil. 
And sleep, till earth herself shall be no more; 
Since then (as emmets, their small world o'erthrown) 
We, sore' amaz'd, from out earth's ruins crawl, 
And rise to fate extreme of foul-or fair. 
As man's own choice (controller of the skies) > 
As man's despotic will, perhaps one hour, 
(O how omnipotent is time!) decrees. 
Should not each warning give a strong alarm? 
Warning, far less than that of bosom torn 
From bosom, bleeding o'er the sacred dead! 
Should not each dial strike us as we pass, 
Portentous, as the written wail Avhich struck, 
O'er midnight bowls, the proud Assyrian pale, 
Erewhile high-flush'd with insolence and wine '' 
Like tlmt the dial speaks, and points to thee, 
Lorenzo 1 loath to break thy baotiuet up . 



2i THE COMPLAINT. Trfghitr 

" O man ! thy kingdom is departing from thee ; 
" And while it lasts, is emptier than my shade." 
Its silent language such ; nor need'st thou call 
Thy magi to decipher what it means. 
Know, nice the Median, Fate is in thy walls ; 
Dost ask how? whence ? Belshazzar-like, amaz'd '.' 
Man's make encloses the sure seeds of death ; 
Life feeds the murderer ; ingrate ! he thrives 
On her own meal, and then his nurse devours. 

But here, Lorenzo, the delusion lies; 
That solar shadow, as it measures life, 
U life resembles too : Life speeds away 
From point to point, though seeming to stand still. 
The cunning fugitive is swift by stealth; 
Too subtle is the movement to be seen ; 
Yet soon man's hour is up, and we are gone. 
Warnings point out our danger, gnomons, time : 
As these are useless when the sun is set; 
go those, but when more glorious reason shines. 
Reason should judge in all ; in reason's eye, 
That sedentary shadow travels hard : 
But such our gravitation to the wrong, 
So prone our hearts to whisper what we wish, 
'Tis later with the wise than he's aware: 
A Wilmington goes slower than the sun; 
And all mankind mistake their time of day; 
E'en age itself Fresh hopes are hourly sown 
In furrow'd brows. So gentle life's descent. 
We shut our eyes, and think it is a plain. 
We take fair days in winter for the spring, 
\nd turn our blessings into bane. Since oft 
Man must compute that age he cannot feel, 
He scarce believes he's older for his years : 
Thus, at life's latest eve, we keep in store 
One disappointment sure, to crown the rest; 
The disappointment of a promis'd hour. 

On this, or similar. Philander, thou, 
Whose mind was moral as the preacher's tongue; 
And strong, to wield all science, worth the name; 
How often we talk'd down the summer's sun, 
And cool'd our passions by the breezy stream - 
How often thaw'd and shorten'd winter's eve, 
By conflict kind, that struck out latent truth, 
Best found, so sought ; to the recluse more coy ! , 
Thoughts disentangle, passing o'er the hp; 
Clean runs the thread ; if not, 'tis thrown away, 
pr kept to tie up nonsense for a song; 
Song, fashionably fruitless ; such as stains 



ON TIME, DEATH, &c. ^5 

r JfJ"?"*^?' and "nhallow'd passion fires, 

Kn3il^V*'°l' *° Cytherea's fane. 
As beeR mivM^' ^^?^^"^"' l^at a friend contains ? 

Twfn, tflnT ^'T^'^^'P^ wisdom and delight ; 
T« ins tied by Nature ; if they part they die. 
Goni ^.n^ "^ -^V""^ ^° ^^^ thy mind abroad, ? 
Good sense will stagnate. Thoughts shut up want air 
H^d Ch^;" ^''^^. """P^"'*^ to%he sun ^' '"^ *''' 

Speech ti,.^M'/"' '"I?"* 'P'""^ ^''^ ''««" denied; 
speech, thought's canal! speech, thought's criterion 

VvSfJ^; 't^^ ^'^f '"^y <^°^^ forth gold or dross: 
If ^f" ^.o^n'd in words, we know its real worth : 
't! •?. k""' .1*''''^ '* '°'' t''y future use ; 
^Z. u^K ^^^^ ^.^"^fit, perhaps renown. 
Thought, too dehver'd, is the more possess'd- 
reaching we learn, and giving we retain 
ihe births of intellect; when dumb forgot 
Speech ventilates our intellectual fire • 
bpeexii burnishes our mental magazine ;' 
linghtens for ornament, and whets for usp. 
What numbers, sheath'd in erudition, lie ' 
I'lung d to the hilts in venerable tomes, 
And rusted; who might have borne an edge, 
TA.P\^''^A'P/^^l'tl5' I'eam, if born to speech ! 
If born blest heirs to half their mother's tongue ! 

Ofw«\r^ fl-^^?''^"."*"' '''^'"^^ like th' alternate push 
A nH H f 'conflicting, breaks the learned scum, ^ 

And defecates the student's standing pool 

In contemplation is his proud resource ? 
1 IS poor, as proud, by converse unsustain'd, 

Kude thought runs wild in contemplation's field • 

converse, the menage, breaks it to the bit 

Of due restramt ; and emulation's spur 

Gives graceful energy, by rivals aw'd. 
1 13 converse qualifies for solitude, 

As exercise for salutary rest : 

By that untutor'd, contemplation raves 

And Nature's fool by Wisdom's is outdone. 
Wisdom tho' richer than Peruvian mines 

And sweeter than the sweet ambrosial hive. 

What is s^he but the means of happiness ' 

That unobtain'd, than folly more a fool • ' 

A melancholy fool without her bells 

Friendship, the means of wisdom, richly gives 

Na?frf .•n^ip^'i"?''?^"'^""^^'^'''"'' wisdom wis^. 
IN aiure, 10 zeal for huoiajo amity, 

B 



25 THE COMPLAINT. Mght tl. 

Penies or damps an undivided joy. 

Joy is an import, joy is an exchange ; 

Joy fiies monopolists ; it calls for two : 

Rich fruit! Heav'n-planted ! never pluck'd by one. 

Needful auxiliars are our friends, to give 

To social man tiue relish of himself. 

Fiill on ourselves descending on a lin0, 

Pleasure's bright beam is feeble in delight : 

Delight intense is taken by rebound ; 

Reverberated pleasures fire the breast. 

Celestial happiness ! whene'er she stoops 
To visit earth, one shrine the goddess finds, 
And one alone, to make her sweet amends 
For absent heav'n— the bosom of a friend ; 
Where heart meets heart, reciprocally soft. 
Each other's pillow to repose divine. 
Beware the counterfeit ; in passion's flame 
Hearts melt^but melt like ice, soon harder froze. 
True love strikes root in reason, passion's foe ; 
Virtue alone entenders us for life; 
I wrong her much— entenders us for ever. 
Of friendship's fairest fruits, the fruit most fair 
Is virtue kindling at a rival fire, 
And eraulously rapid in her race. 
O the soft enmity ! endearing strife ! 
This carries Friendship to her noon-tide point. 
And gives the rivet of eternity. 

Fiom Friendship, which outlives my former themes, 
Tilorious survivor of Old Time and Death ! 
From Friendship thus, that flow'r of heav'nly seed, 
The wise extract earth's most Hyblean bliss, 
Superior wisdom, crown'd with'smiliiig joy. ^ 

But for whom blossoms this Elysian llower ? 
Abroad they find who cherish it at home, 
l^orenzo, pardon what my love extorts, 
An honest love, and not afraid to frown. 
Tho' choice of follies fastens on the great, 
None clings more obstinate than fancy fond, 
That sacred friendship is their easy prey. 
Caught by the wafture of a golden lure, 
Or fascination of a high-born smile. 
Their smiles, the great and the coquet throw out 
For other hearts, tenacious of their own ; 
And we no less of ours when such the bait. 
Ye Fortune's cofferers? ye pow'rs of Wealth? 
You do your rent-rolls most felonious wrong, 
By taking our attachment to yourselves. 
Can goidgaiafiiendsbip ? Impudecce of hope ! 



OF TIME, DEATH, &c.j , 1 

As well mere man an angel might beget. 
Love, and love only, is the loan for love. 
Lorenzo, pride repress, nor hope to find 
A friend, but what has found a friend in thee. 
All like the purchase, few the price will pay ; 
And this makes friends such miracles below. 

What if (since daring on so nice a theme) 
I show thee friendship delicate as dear, 
Of tender violations apt to die ! 
Reserve will wound it, and distrust destroy; 
Deliberate on all things with thy friend ; 
But since friends grow not thick on ev'ry bough, 
Nor ev'ry friend unrotten at the core ; 
First on thy friend delib'rate with thyself; 
Pause, ponder, sift ; not eager in the choice, 
Nor jealous of the chosen; fixing, fix; 
Judge before friendship, then confide till death. 
Well for thy friend, but nobler far for thee. 
How gallant danger for earth's highest prize ! 
A friend is worth all hazards we can run. 
*' Poor is the friendless master of a world: 
*' A world in purchase for a friend is gain." 

So sung he (angels hear that angel sing ! 
Angels from friendship gather half their joy .') 
So sung Philander, as his friend went round 
In the rich ichor, in the gen'rous blood 
Of Bacchus, purple god of joyous wit, 
A brow solute, and ever-laughing eye. 
He drank long health and virtue" to his friend. 
His friend ! who warm'd him more, who more inspir'd. 
Friendship's the wine of life ; but friendship new 
(Not such was his) is neither strong nor pure. 
O! for the bright complexion, cordial warmth, 
And elevating spirit of a friend. 
For twenty summers ripening by my side ; 
All feculence of falsehood long thrown down ; 
All social virtues rising in his soul ; 
As crystal clear, and smiling as they rise ! 
Here nectar flows '- it sparkles in our sight; 
Rich to the taste, and genuine from the heart. 
High-liavour'd bliss for gods ! on earth how rare ! 
On earth how lost ! — Philander is no move. 

Think'st thou the theme intoxicates my song ? 
Am I too warm ! — Too warm I cannot be ! 
I lov'd him much, but now I love him more. 
Like birds, whosebeauties languish, half conceal'd, 
Till mounted on the wing their glossy plumes 
Expanded, shine with azure, green, and gold; 



p THE COMPLAtNT. mghtlt. 

How blessings brighten as they take their flight, 
His flight Philander tool< ; his upivard fliglit, 
If ever soul ascended. Had he dropt, 
( That eagle genius) O had he let fall 
One feather as he flew, I then had wrote 
What friends might flatter, prudent foes forbear^ 
Kivals scarce damn, and Zoilus reprieve. 
Yet what I can I must ; it were profane 
To quench a glory lighted at the skies, 
And cast in shadows his illustrious close. 
bJtrange ; the theme most affecting, most sublime. 
Momentous most to man, should sleep unsung ! 
And yet it sleeps, by genius unawak'd, 
Fainim or Christian, to the blush of Wit. 
IMan's highest triumph, man's profoundest fall, 
The death-bed of the just ! is yet undrawn 
By mortal hand ; it nierits a divine : 
Angels should paint it, angels ever there ; 
There, on a post of honour and of joy. 

Dare 1 presume, then ? but Philander bids. 
And glory tempts, and inclination calls. 
Yet am 1 struck, as struck the soul beneath 
Aerial groves,' impenetrable gloom. 
Or in some mighty ruin's solemn shade. 
Or gazing, by pale lamps, on high-born dust 
In vaults, thin courts of poor unflatter'd kings, 
Or at the midnight altar's hallow'd flame. 
It is religion to proceed : I pause— 
And enter, aw'd, the temple of my theme. 
Is it his deathbed ? Ko : it is his shrine : 
l^ehold him there just rising to a god. 

The chamber where the good man meets his fate ■ 
Is privileg'd beyond the common walk 
Of virtuous life, quite in the verge of heav'n. 
Fly, ye profane ! if not, draw near with awe, 
Beceive the blessing, and adore the chance 
That threw in this Bethesdayour disease : 
If unrestor'd by this, despair your cure ; 
J'or here resistless demonstration dwells : 
A death-bed's a detector of the heart. 
Tleretir'd Dissimulation drops her mask 
Thro' Life's grimace, that mistress of the scene ! 
Here real and apparent are the same. 
You see the man, you see his hold on heav'n, 
Ifsound his virtue ; as Philander's sound. 
Heav'n waits not the last moment; owns her frieads 
Qa thin side death, and points them out lo meu. ; 



ON TIME, DEATH, &c. . 

A lecture silent, but of sovereign pow'r ! 
To Vice confusion, and to Virtue peace 

Wiiatever farce the boastful hero plays. 
Virtue alone has majesty in Death, 
And greater still, the more the tyrant frowns. 
Philander I he severely frown'd on thee 
" No warning giv'n .' unceremonious fate! 
A sudden rush from life's meridian joys • 
♦' A wrench from all we love .' from ail we are ' 
♦' A restless bed of pain ! a plunge opaque 
" Beyond conjecture ! feeble Nature's dread • 
'♦ Strong Reason shudders at the dark unknown ' 
♦' A sun extinguish'd ! a just opening grave • 
" And, oh ! the last, last ! what ? (can words exDrP<!=! 
"Thought reach ?) the last, last-silence of a friend '-' 
Where are those horrors, that amazement where 
This hideous group of ills (which singly shock) ' 
^l"?^°?i^™™ °^^° -—I thought him man till now. 
/T?^'"'".,^^*^"^^''* ^reck, thro' vanquish'd agonies 
(Like the stars struggling thro' this midnight gloom) 
What gleams of joy ? what more than human peaces 
Where the frail mortal ? the poor abject worm ' 
A'o, not in death the mortal to be found 
His conduct is a legacy for all , 
Richer than Mammon's for his single heir 
His comforters he comforts; great in ruin" 
With unreluctant grandeur gives, not yield^ 
His soul sublime, and closes with his fate. 

How our hearts burn within us at the scene ' 
Whence this brave bound o'er limits fixt to man '' 
His God sustains him in Lis final hour ! 
His final hour brings glorv to his God ! 
Man's glory Heav'n vouchsafes to call her own 
We gaze, we weep ! mixt tears of grief and joy I 
Amazement strikes ! devotion bursts to flame I 
Christians adore ! and infidels believe. 

As some tall tow'r, or lofty mountain's brow, 
Detains the sun illusCrious, from his height, 
While rising vapours and descending shades, 
With damps and darkness drown the spacious vale 
tndampt by doubt, undarken'd by despair, 
Philander thus augustly rears his head. 
At that black hour which gen'ral horror sheds 
On the low level of th' in?lo?ious throng : 
Sweet peace, aud heav'uly hope, and Lumble joy, 
Divinely beam on his exalted soul ; 
Destruction gild and crown him for the skies, 
nith iBcoffiajuDieable lustre bright 



THE 

COMPLAINT. 

lilGHT I [I. 

N A R C I S S A. 

T"nosctndcL qvfdm, scirent si ignoscere manes. Vivx. 



I-^SCRIBED TO HER GRACE THE EUCRESS OF P 

From dreams, where thought in Fancy's maze runs 
To reason, that heav'n-lighted lamp in man, [raa<J 
Oace more I Avake; and at the destin'd hour, 
Punctual as lovers to the moment sworn, 
I keep my assignation with my wo. 

O ' lost to virtue, lost to manly thought, 
liost to the noble sallies of the^oul ! 
Who think it solitude to be'alone. 
Communion sweet ! communion large and high ! 
Our reason, guardian angel, and our God ! 
Then nearest thee, when others most remote ; 
And all, ere long, shall be remote but these. 
How dreadful, then, to meet them all alone, 
A stranger ! unacknowlcdg'd ! unapprov'd ! 
Now woo them, wed them, bind tiiem to thy orcast; 
To win thy wish, creation has no more. 

Or if we wish a fourth, it is a friend. 

But friends, how mortal ! dang'rous the desire. 

Take Phcebus to yourselves, ye basking bards? 
Inebriate at fair FoVtune's fountain-head; 
And reeling thro' the wilderness of joy. 
Where Sense runs savage, broke from Reason's chaifl, 
And sings false peace, till smotherd by the pall. I 
Mv fortune is uiilike, unlike my song, 
Unlike the deity my song invokes. 
I to Day's soft-ey'd sist^^r pay my court. 



NARCISSA. 

(Endymion's rival) and her aid implore; 
Ivow "first implor'd in succour to the Muse. 
Thou, who didBt lately borrow C3nithia's* form, 
And modestly forego thine own ! O thou. 
Who didst thyself, at midnight hours, inspire ! 
Say, why soX Cynthia, patroness of song ? 
As thou her crescent, she thy character 
Assumes, still more a goddess by the change. 

Are there demurring wits who dare dispute 
This revolution in the world inspir'd ! 
Ye train Pierian ! to the lunar sphere, 
In silent hour, address your ardent call 
For aid immortal, less her brother's right. 
She with the spheres harmonious nightly leads 
The mazy dance, and hears their matchless strain ; 
A strain for gods, denied to mortal ear. 
Transmit it heard, thou silver Q,ueen of Heav'n ! 
What title or what name endears thee most? 
Cynthia ! Cyllene ! Phcebe !— or dost hear 

With higher gust, fair P d of the skies ? 

Is that the soft enchantment calls thee down, 

More pow'rful than of old Circean charm ? 

Come, but from heav'nly banquets with thee brir.g 

The soul of song, and whisperin mine ear 

The theft divine ; or in propitious dreams 

(For dreams are thine) transfuse it thro' the breast 

Of thy first votary — but not thy last. 

If, like thy namesake, thou art ever kind. 

And kind thou wilt be, kind on such a theme; 
A theme so like.thee, a quite lunar theme, 
Soft, modest, melancholy, female, fair ! 
A theme that rose all pale, and told my soul 
'Twas night; on her fond hopes perpetual night; 
A night which struck a damp, a deadlier damp 
Than that which smote me from Philander's tomb. 
Narcissa follows ere his tomb is clos'd. 
Woes cluster ; rare are solitary woes; 
They love a train ; they tread each other's JieeJ ; 
Her death invades his mournful right, and claims 
The grief that started from my lids for him ; 
Seizes the faithless, alienated tear, 
Or shares it ere it falls. So frequent Death, 
Sorrow he more than causes ; he confounds ; 
For human sighs his rival strokes contend. 
And makes distress distraction. Oh, Philander ! 
What was thy fate ? a double fate to me ; 

* At tfii dvke 0/ JSorfiiWs masquerade . 



S2 THE COMPLAINT. Ifight III 

Portent and pain ! a menace and a blow ! 
Like the blacii raven hov'ring o'er my peace, 
Not less a bird of omen than of prey. 
It call'd Narcissa long before her hour : 
It call'd her tender soul by break, of bliss, 
From the first blossom, from the buds of joy; 
Those few our noxious fate unblasted leaves 
In this inclement clime of human life. 

Sweet Harmonist ! and beautiful as sweet ; 
And young as beautiful ! and soft as young ! 
And gay as soft ! and innocent as gay ! 
And happy (if aught happy here) as good ! 
For fortune fond had built her nest on high. 
Like birds, quite exquisite of note and plume, 
Transfix'd by Fate (who loves a lofty mark) 
How from the summit of the grove she fell 
And left it unharraonious ! all its charm 
Extinguish'd in the wonders of her song ; 
Her song still vibrates in my ravish'd ear, 
Htill melting there, and with voluptuous pain 
(0 to forget her !) thrilling through my heart ! 

Song, beauty, youth, love, virtue, joy ! this group 
Of bright ideas, flow'rs of Paradise. 
As yet unforfeit ! in one blaze we bind, 
Kneel, and present it to the skies, as all 
Weguessofheav'n; and these were all her own; 
And she was mine ; and I was— was !— most bless'd— 
Gay title of the deepest misery ! 
As bodies grow more pond'rous robb'd of life, 
Good lost weighs more in grief than gaiu'd in joy. 
Like blossom'd trees o'erturn'dby vernal storw, 
Lovely in death the beauteous ruin lay ; 
And if in death still lovely, lovelier there, 
Far lovelier ! Pity swells the tide of love. 
And will not the severe excuse a sigh ? 
Scorn the proud man that is ashamed to weep; 
Our tears indulg'd, indeed deserve our shame. 
Ye that e'er lost an angel, pity me ! 

Soon as the lustre languish'd in her eye, 
Dawning a dimmer day on human sight, 
And on her cheek, the residence of Spring, 
Pale omen sat, and scatter'd fears around 
On all that saw (and who would cease to gaze 
That once had seen?) with haste, parental haste. 
1 flew, I snatch'd her from the rigid north. 
Her native bed, on which bleak Boreas blew. 
And bore her nearer to the sun: the sun 
(As if the sua could envy) cbeck'd his beam, 



NARCISSA. 33 

Denied his wonted succour ; nor -with more 
Regret beheld her drooping than the bells 
Of lilies ; fairest lilies, not so fair ! 

Queen lilies ! and j- e painted populace ! 
Who dwell in fields, and lead ambrosial lives ! 
In morn and evening dew your beauties bathe, 
And drink the sun which gives your cheeks to glow, 
And out-blush (mine excepted) every fair ; 
You gladlier grew, ambitious of her hand. 
Which often cropt your odours, incense meet 
To thought so pure ! Ye lovely fugitives ! 
Coeval race with man ; for man you smile ; 
Why not smile at him too ? You share, indeed, 
His sudden pass, but not his constant pain. 

80 man is made, nought ministers delight, 
But what his glowing passions can engage ; 
And glowing passions, bent on aught below. 
Must, soon or late, with anguish turn the scale ; 
And anguish after rapture, how severe ! 
Rapture ! bold man ! who tempts the wrath divine, 
By plucking fruit denied to mortal taste, 
While here, presuming on the rights of Heav'n. 
For transport dost thou call on e\'ry hour, 
Lorenzo ? At thy friend's expense be wise : 
Lean not on earth ; 'tAviil pierce thee to the heart ; 
A broken reed at best ; but oft a spear ; 
On its sharp point Peace bleeds, and Hope expires. 
Turn, hopeless thought ! turn from her : — Thought re- 
Resenting rallies, and wakes ev'ry wo. [pell'cl 
Snatch'd ere thy prime ! and in thy bridal hour! 
And when kind fortune, with thy lover, smil'd ! 
And when high-flavour'd thy fresh op'ning joys ! 
And when blind man pronounc'd thy bliss^ complete ; 
And on a foreign shore, where strangers wept! 
Strangers to thee, and, more surprising still, 
Strangers to kindness, wept. Their eyes let fall 
Inhuman tears ! strange tears ! that trickled down 
From marble hearts ! obdurate tenderness ! 
A tenderness that call'd them more severe, 
In spite of Nature's soft persuasion steel'd ; 
While Nature melted. Superstition rav'd ! 
That mouru'd the dead, and this denied a grave. 

Their sighs incens'd ; sighs foreign to the will ! 
Their wiUthe tiger suck'd, outrag'd the storm : 
For, oh ! the curs'd Cingodliness of zeal ! 
While sinful fiesh relented, spirit nurs'd 
Inbiind infallibility's erabrate, 
The sa'nted spirit petrified the breast, 
B 2 



34 THE COMPLAINT. Night HI 

Denied the charity of dust to spread 

O'er dust ! a charity their dogs enjoy. 

What could I do ? What succour ? What resource ? 

Witli pious sacrilege a grave I stole ; 

With impious piety that grave I wrong'd; 

Short in my duty, coward in my grief ! 

More like her murderer than friend, I crept 

With soft suspended step, and, muffled deep 

In midnight darkness, whisper'd my last sigh. 

I whiper'd what should echo thro' their realms : 

Nor writ her name.whose tomb should pierce the skies. 

Presumptuous fear ! how durst I dread her foes, 

While Nature's loudest dictates I obeyed ? 

Pardon necessity, blest shade ! of grief 

And indignation rival bursts I pour'd ; 

Half-execration mingled with my pray'r ; 

Kindled at man, while I his God ador'd ; 

Pore grudg'd the savage land her sacred dust; 

Stamp'd the curs'd soil ; and with humanity 

(Denied Narcissa) wish'd them all agrave. 

Glows my resentment into guilt ? w hat guilt 
Can equal violations of the dead ? 
The dead how^ sacred ! sacred is the dust 
Of this heav'n-labour'd form, erect, divine ! 
This hcav'n-assum'd, majestic, robe of earth 
He deign'd to wear, who" hung the vast expanse 
With azure bright, and clolh'd the sun in gold. 
When ev'ry passion sleeps that can oHeud ; 
When strikes us ev'ry motive that can melt ; 
When man can wreak his rancour uncontroU'd, 
That strongest curb on insult and ill-will; 
Then, spleen to dust! the dust of innocence! 
An angel's dust ! — This Lucifer transcends ; 
When he contended for the Patriarch's bones, 
'Twas not the strife of malice, but of pride; 
The strife of pontiff pride, not pontiffgall. 

Far less than this is shocking in a race 
Most wietched, but from streams of mutual lore. 
And uncreated, but for love divine ; 
And, but for love divine, this moment lost. 
By Fate resorb'd, and sunk in endless night. 
Man hard of heart to man ! of horrid things 
Most horrid! 'mid stupendous, highly strange ! 
Yet oft his courtesies are smoother wrongs ; 
Pride brandishes the favours he confers, 
And contumelious his humanity : 
What then his vengeance ? Hear it not, ye stars ! 
Aud thou, pale Moou I turn paler at the sound ; 



Iv'ARCISSA. 

Man is to man the sorest, surest ill. 
A previous blast foretells the rising storm ; 
O'erwhelinin? turrets threaten ere they fall; 
Volcanoes bellow ere they disembogue ; 
Earth trembles ere her yawning jaws devour; 
And smoke betrays the wide consuming fire : 
Ruin from man is most conceal'd when near, 
And sends the dreadful tidings in the blow. 
Is this the flight of fancy ? would it were ! 
Heav'n's Sovreign saves all beings, but himself, 
That hideous sight, a naked human heart. 

Fir'd is the Muse? and let the muse be fir'd : 
Who not inflam'd, when what he speaks he feels, 
And in the nerve most tender, in his friends 1 
Shame to mankind ! Philander had his foes ; 
He felt the truths I sing, and I in him : 
But he nor I feel more. Past ills, Narcissa ! 
Are sunk in thee, thou recent wound of heart t 
Which bleeds with other cares, with other pangs ; 
Pangs num'rous as the num'rous ills that swarm'd 
O'er thy distinguish'd fate, and clust'ring there, 
Thick as the locuston the land of Nile, 
IVIade death more deadly, and more dark the graYe. 
Reflect (if not forgot thy touching tale) 
How was each circumstance with aspics arm'd ! 
An aspic each, and all an hydra-wo. 
What strong Herculean virtue could suffice 1—- 
Or is it virtue to be conquered here ? 
The hoary cheek a train of tears bedews, 
And each tear mourns its OAvn distinct distress; 
And each distress, distinctly mourn 'd, demands 
Of grief still more, as heighten'd by the whole. 
A grief like this proprietors excludes ! 
Not friends alone such obsequies deplore ; 
They make mankind the mourner ; carry sighs 
Far as the fatal Fame can wing her way. 
And turn the gayest thought of gayest age 
Down the right channel, thro' the vale of death- 

The vale of death ! that hush'd Cimmerian vale, 
Where darkness brooding o'er unfinish'd fates, 
With raven wing incumbent waits the day 
(Dread day '.) that interdicts all future change ! 
That subterranean world, that land of ruin '. 
Fit walk, Lorenzo, for proud human thought ! 
There let my thoughts expatiate, and explore 
Balsamic truths and healing sentiments, 
Of all most wanted, and most welcome here. 
For gay Lorenzo's sake, and for thy owd, 



/ 

as THE COMPLAINT. iSlgM III. ^ 

My soul ; " The fruits of dying friends survey ; 
" Expose the vain of life ; weigh life and death ; 
" Give death his eulogy : thy fear subdue : 
" And labour, that first palm of noble minds, 
" A manly scorn of terror from the tomb." 

This harvest reap from thy Narcissa's grave. 
As poets feigu'd, from Ajax' streaming blood 
Arose, with grief inscrib'd, a mournful tlow'r, 
Let wisdom blossom from my mortal wound. 
And first, of dying friends : Avhat fruit from these ? 
It brings us more than triple aid ; an aid 
To chase our thoughtlessness, fear, pride and guilt. 
Our dying friends come o'er us, like a cloud, 
To damp our bramless ardours, and abate 
That glare of life which often blinds the wise. 
Our dying friends are pioneers, to smooth 
Our rugged pass to death ; to break those bars 
Of terror and abhorrence Nature throws 
Cross our obstructed way, ajid thus to make 
Welcome, as safe, our port from ev'ry storm. 
Each friend by Fate snatch'd from us, is a plume 
Pluck'd from the wing of human vanity, 
AVhich makes us stoop from our aerial heights, 
And damp'd with omen of our own decease. 
On drooping pinions of ambition lov/er'd, 
Just skim eartii's surface ere we break it up, 
O'er putrid earth to scratch a little dust 
And save the world a nuisance. Smitten friends 
Are angels, sent on errands full ol love ; 
For us they languish, and for us they die; 
And shall they languish, shall they die in vain ? 
(fngrateful, shall we grieve their hov'ring shades, 
■'A'^hich wait the revolution iu our hearts .' 
rrhall we disdain their silent, soft address. 
Their posthumous advice, and pious pray'r 1 
Senseless as herds that graze their halioAv'd graves. 
Tread under foot their agonies and groans ; 
Frustrate their anguish, and destroy their deaths ? 

Lorenzo ! no ; the thought of death indulge ; 
Oive it its wholesome empire ! let it reign, 
That kind chastiser of the soul in joy ! 
Its reign will spread thy glorious conquests far, 
And still the tumults of thy ruffled breast. 
Auspicipus aera ! golden days, begin ! 
The thought of death, shall, like a god, inspire. 
.And why not think on death '? Is lite the theme 
Of ev'ry thought? the wish of ev'ry hour? 
Mi scng of ev'ry joy 1 gurprisiBg truth 1 



NARCISSA. 37 

The beaten spaniel's fondness not so strange. 

To wave the num'rous ills that seize on life 

As their own property, their lawful prey; 

Ere man has measur'ti half his weary stage. 

His luxuries have left him no reserve, 

No maiden relishes, unbroach'd delights; 

On cold-serv'd repetitions he subsists. 

And in the tasteless present chews the past; 

Disgusted chews, and scarce can swallow down. 

like lavish ancestors, his earlier years 

Have disinherited his future hours. 

Which starve on orts, and glean their former field.. 

Live ever here, Lorenzo ! — shocking thought 1 
So shocking, they v>'ho wish disown it too; 
Disown from shame what they from folly crave. 
Live ever in the womb, nor see the light ! 
For what live ever here ? — with lab'ring step 
To tread our former footsteps 1 pace the round 
Eternal? to climb life's worn, heavy wheel. 
Which draws up nothing new '! to beat, and beat 
The beaten track? to bid each wretched day 
The former mock ? to surfeit on the same, 
And yawn our joys ? or thank a misery 
For change, tho' sad ? to see what we have seen ? 
Hear, till unheard, the same old slabber'd tale I 
To taste the tasted, and at each return 
Less tasteful '? o'er our palates to decant 
Another vintage ? strain a flatter year, 
Thro' loaded vessels, and a laxer tone '? 
Crazy machines to grind earth's wasted fruits '. 
Ill ground and worse concocted ! load, not life ! 
The rational foul kennels of excess ! 
Still-streaming thoroughfares of dull debauch ! 
Trembling each gulf, lest death-should snatch the bowl. 

Such of our fine ones is the wish refin'd ! 
So would they have it : elegant desire ! 
Why not invite the bellowing stalls and wilds ? 
But srch examples might their riot awe. 
Thro' want of virtue, that is, want of thought, 
(^Tho' on bright thought they father all their flights) • 
To what are they reduc'd ? to love and hate 
The same vain world ; to censure and espouse 
This painted shrew of life, who calls them fool 
Each moment of each day ; to flatter bad 
Thro' dread of worse ; to cling to this rude rock. 
Barren, to them, of good, and sharp with ills, 
And hourly blacken'd with impending storms, 
Aad InfaiBous for wrecks of buman hope — 



'J3 THE COMPLAINT. Night in. 

Soar'd at the gloomy gulf that yawns beneath. 
Such are their triumph ! such their pangs of joy. 

'Tis time, high tinie, to shift this dismal sceiie. 
This hugg'd, this hideous state, ■what art can cure? 
One only ; but that one what all may reach ; 
Tirtue — she, wonder-wori\ing goddess ! charms 
That rock to bloom, and tames the painted shrew ; 
And, what will more surprie, Lorenzo ! gives 
To life's sick, nauseous, iteration, change ; 
And straitens Nature's circle to a line. 
Believ'st thou this, T>orenzo ? lend an ear, 
A patient ear, thou'lt blush to disbelieve. 

A languid, leaden iteration reigns, 
And ever must, o'er those whose joys are joys 
Of sight, smell, taste. The cuckoo-seasons sing 
The same dull note to such as nothing prize. 
But what those seasons, from the teeming earth, 
To doting sense indulge. Rut nobler minds, 
Which reli.-*h fruits imripen'd by the sun, 
INIake their days various, various as the dyes 
On the dove's neck, which wanton in his rays. 
On minds of dove-like innocence possess'd, 
On lighten'd minds, that bas-k in virtue's beams, 
Nothing hangs tedious, nothing old revolves 
In that for which they long, for which they live. 
Their glorious eirorts,-wing'd with heavenly hope, 
Each rising morning sees still higher rise ; 
Each bounteous dawn its novelty presents 
To worth maturing, new strength, lustre, fame j 
While Nature's circle, like a chariot wheel 
Rolling beneath their elevated aims, 
Makes-their fair prospect fairer ev'ry hour ; 
Advancing virtue in a line to bliss ; 
Virtue whicli Christian motivesbest inspire '• 
And bliss, which Christian scheme.s alone insure ! 

And shall we then, for virtue's sake, commence 
Apostates, and turn infidels for joy ? 
A truth it is, few doubt, but fewer trust, 
" He sius against this life, who slishts the next." 
What is this life '! how few their fav'rite know ! 
Fond in tbe dark, and blind in our embrace, 
By passionately loving lite, we make 
Lov'd life unlovely, hugging her to death. 
We give to time eternity's regard. 
And dreaming, take our passage for our port. 
I,ife has no value a.s an end, but means ; 
An end deplorable ! a means divine J 
Wiier. 'tis oar ail, 'ds nothing; worse than nought; 



J^ARCISSA. 29 

A pest of pains ; ^hen held as nolhins, much. 
iAke some fair hum'rists, life is most enioy'd 
y hen courted least , most i^orth, ivhen disesteem'd ■ 
Then 'tis the seat of comfort, rich in peace • ' 

In prospect richer far ; important ! awfui ' ''■ 
^ottobemention'd but ivith shouts of prai^^e I 
Not to be thought on but with tides of joy ! 
i he mjshty basis of eternal bliss ! 

Where now the barren rock ? the painted shrew ' 
^ here now, Lorenzo, life's eternal rounds ' 

Have 1 not made my triple promise ?ood ? 
\ ain js t))e world ; but only to the vain. 
ID what compare we then this varying scene 
Whose worth ambiguous, rises and declines 
VV axes and wanes ? (In all, propitious Aight 
Assists me here) compare it to the moon; 
Udvk m herself, and indigent : but rich 
In borrow'd lustre from a higher sphere. 
U hen gross guilt interposes, lab'ring earth, 
u ershadow'd mourns a deep eclipse of iov- 
S-^""-!?-^''^^* brightest, pallid, to that font ' 
UHull effulgent glory whence they How. 

JNor IS that glory distant. Oh, Lorenzo, 
A good man and an angel .' these between 
How thm the barrier ! what divides tlieirfate ? 
r^rij^aps a moment, or perhaps a year; 
Vr n an age, it is a moment still ; 
A moment, or eternity's forgot, 
i hen be what once they were who now are god« • 
Be what Philander was, and claim the skies. 
Marts timid A'ature at ihe gloomy pass ' 
i he soft transition call it, and becheer'd : 
^uch it 13 often, and why not to thee ? 
|0 hope the best is pious, brave, and wise • 
And may itself procure what it presumes. 
Life IS much fiatter'd, Death is much traduc'd • 
..ompare the rivals, and the kinder crown ' 
; Strange composition !"— True, Lorenzo, stran-'e ' 
50 little life can cast into the scale. 

Life makes the soul dependent on the dust • 
Death gives her win;s to mount above the spheres 
rhrough chinks, styl'd organs, dim life peeps at light- 
3eath bursts the involving cloud, and all is day • ' 
UI eye, all ear, the disembodied pow'r. ' 

3eath has feign'd evils nature shall not feel; 
jife, ills substantial wisdom cannot shun. 
s nottlie mighty mind, that son of Heav'n, 
■y tyrant Life dethroD'd. ixnpritoa'd, paia'd' 



40 THE COMPLAINT. AightlH. 

By death enlarg'd, ennobled, deified? 
Death but entombs the body, liie tliesoiil. 

" Is death then guiltless ! hoAv he marks his way 
«' With dreadful waste of what deserves to shine 1 
•' Art, genius, fortune, elevated power; 
*' With various lustres these light up the world, 
" Which death puts out, and darkens human race." 
I grant, Lorenzo, this indictment just : 
The sage, peer, potentate, king, conqueror! 
Death humbles these ; more barb'rous Life the man. 
liife is the triumph of our mould'ring clay; 
Death of the spirit infinite ! divine ! 
Death has no dread but what frail life imparts 
Nor life true ioy but what kind death improves. 
Ko bliss has life to boast, till death can give 
Far greater. Life's a debtor to the grave, 
Dark lattice ! letting in eternal day ! 

Lorenzo, blush at fondness for a life 
Which sends celestial souls on errands vile. 
To cater for the sense, and serve at boards 
Where every ranger of the wilds, perhaps 
Kach reptile, justly claims our upper-hand, 
Luxurious feast ! a soul, a soul immortal, 
In all the dainties of a brute bemir'd ! 
Jjorenzo, blush at terror for a death 
Which gives thee to repose in festive bower.?, 
Where nectars sparkle, angels minister, 
And more than angels share, and raise, and crown, 
And eternize, the birth, bloom, bursts of bliss. 
What need I more 1 O Death, the palm is thine. 

Then welcome. Death ! thy dreaded harbingeis, 
Age and disease; Disease though long my guest. 
That plucks my nerves, those tender strings of life; 
Which, pluck'd a little more, will toll the bell 
That calls my few friends to my funeral ; 
Where feeble Nature drops, perhaps, a tear, 
While Reason and Religion, better taught, 
f-ongratulate tlie dead, and crown his torn!) 
With wreath triumphant. Death is victory ; 
It binds in chains the raging ills of life : 
Lust and Ambition, Wrath and Avarice, 
;U(a™M at his chariot-wheel, applaud his power. 
That ills corrosive, cares importunate, 
Are not immortal too, O Death is thine. 
Our day of dissolution ! — name it right, 
'Tis our great pay-day : 'tis our harvest, rich 
And ripe. What though the sickle, sometimes keen,,,,! 
Just scar us as we reap the golden grain ? J 



NARCISSI. 4i 

More than thy balm, O Gilead ! heals the wound. 
Birth 8 feeble cry, and Death's deep dismal groan, 
Are slender tributes low-tax'd Nature pays 
J or miehty gain ; the gain of each a life ! 
But O . the last the former so transcends. 
Life dies compar'd ; Life lives beyond the grave. 
And feel I, Death, no joy from thought of thee? 
IJeatfi, the great counsellor, who man inspires 
With every nobler thought and fairer deed ! 
iJeath, the deliverer, who rescues man ! 
iJeath, the rewarder, who the rescued crowns ! 
^eath, that absolves my birth, a curse without it ! 
Kich Death that realizes all my cares, 
ioils, virtues, hopes; without it a chimera • 
Death, of all pam the period, not of joy ; 
Joy s source and subject still subsist unhurt; 
T^r ^"J^l ^°"^' ^"^ ™6 Jn her great sire, 
i nough the four winds were warring for my dust. 
yes, and from winds, and waves, and central night, 
ihough prison'd there, my dust too I reclaim, 
Uo dust when drop proud nature's proudest spheres) 
And live entire. Death is the crown of life ; 
Were death denied, poor man would live in vain : 
Were death denied, to live would not be life : 
were oeath denied, e'en fools would wish to die. 
Death wounds to cure : we fall, we rise, we reign ! 
^ring from our fetters, fasten in the skies, 
Where blooming Eden withers in our sight : 
Death gives us more than was in Eden lost, 
ihis king of terrors is the prince of peace. 
When shall I die to vanity, pain, death ? 
w hea shall I die ?-when shall I live for ever T 



THE 

COMPLAINT. 

HIGHT IV. 
TEE CHRISTIAN TRIUMPH. 

CONTAINING 

Thz onl}) Cwnfor the Fear of Death; and proper Senti- 
ments of Heart or. that intstimable Blessing. 

INSCRIBED TO THE HON. MR. YORKE. 

A MrcH indebted muse, O Yorke ! intrudes. 
Amid the smiles of fortune and of youth, 
Thine ear is patient of a serious song. 
How deep implanted in the breast of man 
The dread of death ! 1 sing its sovereign cure. ^ 

Way start at death ? where is he "? Death arnv'd, 
Is oast; not come, or gone, he's never here 



IS past: iiui, vv/int., "ji o^..v., .-_ - — ^_ 

Ere hone, sensation fails ; black-boding man 
Receives, not suffers, Death's tremendous blow. 
The knell, the shroud, the mattock and the grave; 
The deep damp vault, the darkness, and the worm?: 
The«e are the bugbears of a winter's eve, 
The tenors of the living, not the dead. 
Imat^ipation's fool, and error's wretch, 
Mac makes a death which Nature never made ; 
Then on the point of his own fancy lalls. 
And feels a thousand deaths in fearing one. 

But were Death frightful, what has age to fear? 
If prudent, age should meet the friendly foe, 
And shelter in his hospitable gloom. 
I scarce can meet a monument but holds 
My younger; ev'ry date cries—" Come away. 
And wimt recalls cie^ Look the world wouod, 



THE CHRISTIAN TRIUMPH. 

And tell me what t The wisest cannot tell. 
Should any born of woman give his thought 
Full range on just dislike's unboL;nded field ; 
Of things the vanity, of men the flaws ; 
Flaws in the best ; the many flaw all o'er ; 
As leopards spotted, or as Ethiops dark ; 
Vivacious ill ; good dying immature ; 
(How immature, Narcissa's marble tells) 
And at its death bequeathing endless pain ; 
His heart, tho' bold, would sicken at the sight, 
And spend itself in sighs for future scenes. 

But grant to life (and just it is to grant 
To.lucky life^ some perquisites of joy ; 
A time there is, when, like a thrice-told tale. 
Long-rifled life of sweet can yield no more. 
But from our comment on the comedy, 
Pleasing reflections on parts well sustain'd, 
Or purpos'd emendations where we faii'd, 
Or hopes of plaudits from our candid Judge, 
When, on their exit, souls are bid unrobe, 
Toss fortune back her tinsel and her plume, 
And drop this mask of flesh behind the scene. 

With me that Ume is come ; my world is dead ; 
A new world rises, and new manners reign. 
Foreign comedians, a spruce band, arrive 
To push me from the scene, or hiss me there. 
What a pert race starts up ! the strangers gaze, 
And I at them ; ray neighbour is unknown ; 
Nor that the worst. Ah me ! the dire effect 
Of loit'ring here, of death defrauded long ; 
Of old so gracious (and let that suflice) 
My very master knows me not. — 

Shall I dare say, peculiar is the fate? 
I've been so long remember'd, I'm forgot. 
An object ever pressing dims the sight, 
And hides behind its ardour to be seen. 
When in his courtiers' ears I pour my plaint, 
They drink it as the nectar of the great, 
And squeeze my hand, and beg me come to-morrow ; 
Refusal ! canst thou wear a smoother form 1 

Indulge me, nor conceive I drop my theme : 
Who cheapens life, abates the fear of death. 
Twice told the period spent on stubborn Troy, 
Court-favour, yet untakeu, I besiege : 
Ambition's ilHudged effort to be rich. 
Alas! ambition makes my little less, 
Embitt'ring the possess'd. Why wish for more ? 
Wishing, vi all employments, is the worst 1 



U THE COMPI.AINT. Night IK 

Philosophy's reverse, and health's decay ! 
Were I as plump as stall'd Theology, 
Wishing would waste me to this shade again. 
Were I as wealthy a:s a South-sea dream > 
Wishing is an expedient to be poor. 
Wishing, that constant hectic of a fool, 
Caught at a court, purg'd off by purer air 
And simpler diet, gifts of rural life ! 

Blest be that hand divine, which gently laid 
My heart at rest beneath this humble shed. 
The world's a stately bark, on dang'rous seas 
With pleasure seen, but boarded at our peril : 
Here, on a single plank, thrown safe ashorej 
i hear the tumult of the distant throng 
As that of seas remote, or dying storms, 
And meditate on scenes more silent still ; 
Pursue my theme, and fight the fear of death. 
Here, like a shepherd gazing from his hut. 
Touching his reed, or leaning on his staff. 
Eager ambition's fiery chase 1 see ; 
1 see the circling hunt of noisy men 
Burst law's inclosure, leap tlve mounds of right, 
Pursuing, and pursu'd, each other's prey ; 
As wolves for rapine, as the fox for wiles. 
Till death, that mighty hunter, earths them all. 

Why all this toil for triumphs of an hour ? 
What tjio' we wade in wealth, or soar in fame 
Karth's highest station ends in, " here he lies;" 
'And " dust to dust," concludes her noblest song 
If this song lives, posterity shall know 
One, tho' in Britain born, with courtiers bred, '^ 
Who thought e'eu gold might come a day too late, 
Kor on his subtle deatli-bed plann'd his scheme 
For future vhcancies in church or state, 
^"ome avocation deeming it — to die ; 
Unbit by rage canine of dying rich ; 
Guilt's blunder ! and the loudest laugh of Hell. 

O my coevals ! remnants of yourselves ! 
Poor human ruins tott'ring o'er the grave ! 
Shall we, shall aged men, like aged trees. 
Strike deeper their vile root, and closer cling, 
Still more cnamour'd of t!iis wretched soil ? 
Shall our pale wither'd hands be still stretch'd out, 
Trembling, at once, witli eagerness and age ! 
With av'rice, and convulsions, grasping hard? 
Grasping at air ! for what has earth beside J 
Man wants but little, nor that little long; 
How soon must he resign his very dust, 
Wbicti frugal Is ature leat bira for sjj hovir ! 



THE CHRISTIAN TRIUMPH. 

f «ars unexperienc'd rush on num'rous ills • 
ihi IT ^'.-f'^"-' ^""^^^^ f'"*^™ time, has found 

Wbl^/°75^' '^°P'^ ^^^ g^^^^s «f death. 

When in this vale of years I backward Jook 

Firmer in health, and greener in their a4 
And stricter on their guard, and fitter fa? 
To p ay life's subtle game, I scarce believe 
Is till survive. And am I fond of life, 
Who scarce can think it possible I live ' 
Alive by miracle ! or, what is next, 
Alive by ftlead ! If I am still alive 
Who long havebury'd what gives life to live, 
Firmness of nerve, and ener-y of thought 
Life s lee IS not more shallow than impure 

riiJrr^''^ V^^"'^ '"""^ ^-^^0" ^^how the door, 
Call for my bier, and pohit me to the dust. 

O thou great Arbiter of life and death I 
rvature's immortal, immaterial sun ! 
\. hose al prolific beam late call'd me forth 

rom darkness, teeming darkness, where I lay 
r !p ^LTt ? ^"f?™n and, in rank, beneath^ 
rhe dust I tread on ; high to bear my brow, 
1 drink the spirit of the golden day, 
^.nd triumph in existence; and couldst kaow 
\o motive but my bliss; and hastordain'd 
V rise in blessing! with the Patriarch's joy 
f hy call I follow to the land unknown • 
I trust in thee, and know in whom I trust : 
r life or death is equal; neither weighs • 
^!lu ®,'It ^ ^" this-O let me live to thee ! 

Tho A ature's terrors thus may be represt, 
n Sr'' Snm Deatli ; guilt points the tyrant's spear 
aid whence all human guilt? From death forgot, 
.h me ! too long Iset at nought the swarm 
n iriendly warnings which around me flew, 
nd smil'd mwmitlen. Small my cause to smile ! 
eath s admonitions, like shafts upward shot, 
fore dreadful by dehiv, the longer ere 

ftl ^^r^^ i*"*" ^t^''t'^' ^^^ deeper is their wound, 
think how deep, Lorenzo ! here it stings : 
tio can appease its anguish ? How it burns ! 
■w ■!'''",'• ^K ^^''*'''^' envenom'd thought can draw : 
iiat healing hand can pour the balm of peace, 
Ed turn my sight undaunted on the tomb? 
With joy— with grief, that healing hand I see : 
11 ! too conspicuou-s ! it is fix'd on high. 
» hi^h ?-.what meaas my frenz/ ? I blaspheme ; 



/,5 THE COMPLAINT. Aight Ifr.' 

JVlas! how low ! how far beneath the skies ! 
The skies it form'd, and now it bleeds for me — 
But bleeds the balm I want — yet still it bleeds ; 
Draw the dire steel — ah, no ! the dreadful blessing 
What heart or can sustain, or dares forego ? 
There hangs all human hope ; that nail sujiports 
The falling universe ; that gone, we drop ; 
Horror receives us, and the dismal wish 
Creation had been smotherM in her birth — 
Darkness his curtain, and his bed the dust ; 
When stars and sun are dust beneath his throne ! 
In heav'n itself can such indulgence dwell 1 
O what a groan was there ? a groan not his ; 
He seiz'd our dreadful right, the load sustain'J, 
And heav'd the mountain from a guilty world. 
A thousand worlds so bought, were bought too dear '• 
Sensations new in angels' bosoms rise, 
Suspend their song, and make a pause in bliss. 

O for their song to reach my lofty theme '. 
Inspire me. Night ! with all thy tuneful spheres, 
Much rather thou who dost these spheres inspire I 
Whilst I with seraphs share seraphic themes. 
And show to men the dignity of man, 
Lest I blaspheme my subject with my song. 
Shall Pagan pages glow celestial flame, 
And Christian languish ? On our hearts, not heads, 
Fall the foul infamy. My heart, awake : 
What can awake thee, unwak'd by this, 
" Expended Deity on human weal ?" 
Feel the great truths which burst the tenfold night 
or heathen error, w ilh a golden flood 
Of endless day. To feel is to be fir'd ; 
And to believe, Lorenzo, is to feel. 

Thou most indulgent, most tremendous Pow'r ! 
Still more tremendous for thy wond'rous love ; 
That arms with awe more awful thy commands. 
And foul transgression dips in sevenfold night; 
How our hearts tremble at thy love immense '. 
In love immense, inviolably just ! 
Thou, rather than thy justice should bestain'd, 
Didst stain the cross ; and, work of wonders far 
The greatest, that thy dearest far might bleed. 

Bold thought! shall I dare speak it or repress 1 
Should man more execrate or boast the guilt [flamV 
Which] rous'd such vengeance; which such love i 
O'er guilt (how mountainous !) with outstretch'd arras 
Stern Justice, and soft-smiling Love, embrace, 
Supporting, in full majesty, thy throne, 



THE CHRISTIAN TRIUMPH. 47 

When seem'd its majesty to need support, 

Or that, or man, inevitably lost : 

What but the fathomless of thought divine 

Could labour such expedient from despair, 

And rescue both ? i5oth rescue! both exalt'. 

O how are both exalted by the deed ! 

The wond'rous deed ! or shall I call it more ? 

A wonder in Omnipotence itself ! 

A mystery, no I^s to gods than men ! 

Not thus our infidels th' Eternal diaw, 
A God all o'er consummate, absolute, 
Fullorb'd. in his whole round of rays complete : 
They set at odds Heav'n's jarring attributes, 
And with one excellence, another wound ; 
Maim heaven's perfection, break its equal beams, 
Bid mercy triumph over— God himself, 
TJndeified by their opprobrious praise : 
A God all mercy is a God unju;t. 

Ye brainless wits ! ye baptiz'd infidels ! 
Ye worse for mending ! wash'd to fouler stains I 
The ransom was paid down ; the fund of heaven, 
Heaven's inexhaustible, exhausted fund, 
Amazing and amaz'd, pourM forth the price, 
All price beyond : though curious to compute, 
Archangels fail'd to cast the mighty sum : 
Its value vast ungrasj)'d by minds create, 
For ever hides and glows in the Supreme. 

And was the ransom paid '! It was ; and paid 
(What can exalt the bounty more ?) for you. 
The sun beheld it— No, the shocking scene 
Drove back his chariot : Midnight veil'd his face ; 
Not such as this, not such as Nature makes : 
A midnight. Nature shudder'd to behold ; 
A midnight, new ! a dread eclipse (without 
Opposing spheres) from her Creator's frown ! 
Sun ! didst thou fly thy Maker's pain '! or start 
At that enormous load of human guilt 
Which bow'd his blessed head, o'erwhelm'd his cross, 
Made groan the centre, burst earth's marble womb 
With pangs, strange pangs ! deliver'dofher dead? 
Hell howl'd ; and heaven that hour let fall a tear : 
[leaven wept, that man might smile ! Heaven bled, that 
Vlight never die ! — — [man 

And is devotion virtue ? 'Tis compell'd. 
W hit heart of stone but glows at thoughts like these 1 
Such contemplations mount us, and should mouHt 
The mind, still higher, nor ever glance on man 
Uniaptur'd, unixiflamM.--Where roUiuy ttoughts 



i% THE COMPLAINT. Night IK 

To rest from -wonders ! other wonders rise, 

And strike where'er they roll : my soul is caught : 

Heaven's sov'reign blessings clust'ring from the cross, 

Hush on her in a throng, and close her round, 

The pris'ner of amaze,!— In his bless'd life 

1 see the path, and in his death the price, 

And in his great ascent the proof supreme 

Of immortality.— And did he rise ? 

Hear, O ye Nations ! Hear it, O ye Dead ! 

He rose, he rose ! he burst the bars of deatk. 

liift up your heads, ye everlasting gates, 

And give the King of Glory to come in. 

Who is the King of Glory ? He who left 

His throne of glory for tiie pangs of death- 

Lift up your heads, ye everlasting gates, 1 

And give the King of Glory to come in. 

Who is the King of Glory '! He who slew 

The rav'nous foe that gorg'd all human race 1 

The King of Glory he, Avhose glory fill'd 

Heav'n with amazement at his love to man ; 

And with divine complacency beheld 

Tow'rs most illumin'd wilder'd in the theme. 

The theme, the joy, how then shall man sustain ? ■ >i 
Oh, the burst gates ' crusli'd sting ! demolish'd throne !f 
Last gasp ! of vanqnish'd death. Shout, earth and hea- 
This sum of good to man ! whose nature then [ven, , 
Took wing, and mounted with him from the tomb. 
Tlien, then, I rose; then first humanity 
Triumphant pass'd the crystal ports of light, 
(Stupendous guest!) and seiz'd eternal youth, 
Seiz'd in our name. E'er since 'tis blasphemouJ 
To call man mortal. Man's mortality 
Was tjien transfer'd to death ; and heav'n's duration. 
L^nalienably seal'd to this frail frame. 
This child of dust— Man, all-immortal ! hail; 
Hail, Heav'n, all lavish of strange gifts to man '. 
Thine all the glory, man's the boundless bliss. 

Where am I wrapt by this triumphant theme, 
On Christian joy's exulting wing, above 
Th' Aonian mount !— Alas, small cause for joy ! 
What if to pain immortal? if extent 
Of being, to prelude a close of wo ? 
■VVhere, then, my boast of immortality? J 

I boast it still, though cover'do'er with guilt; ^ 

For guilt, not innocence, his life he pour'd ; 
'Tis guilt alone can justify his death ; 
Not that, unless his death can justify 
Relenting guilt in heav'n's indulgent sight 



THE CHRISTIAN TRIUMPH. 49 

If, sick of folly, I relent, he writes 

My name in heav'n with that inverted spear 

(A spear deep-dip'd in blood !) which pierc'd his side, 

And open'd there a font for all mankind, 

Who strive, who combat crimes, to drink and live *. 

This, only this, subdues the fear of death. 

And what is this ? — survey the wond'rous cure, 
And at each step, let higher wonder rise ! 
" Pardon for intinite offence ! and pardon 
" Through means that speak its value infinite ! 
" A pardon bought with blood ! with blood divine .' 
" With blood divine of him I m.ade my foe ! 
" Persisted to provoke ! though woo'd and aw'd, 
" Bless'd and chastis'd, a flagrant rebel still ; 
" A rebel 'midst the thunders of his throne ! 
*' Nor I alone ! a rebel universe ! 
" My species up in arms ! not one exempt ! 
" Yet for the foulest of the foul he dies ; 
•' Most joy'd for the redeem'd from deepest guilt .' 
" As if our race were held of highest rank, 
"And Godhead dearer as more kind to man !" 

Bound ev'ry Iieart, and every bosom burn ! 
O what a scale of miracles is here ! 
Its lowest round hi.^h planted on the skies; 
Its tow'ring summit lost beyond the thought 
Of man or angel ! Oh that 1 could climb 
The wonderful ascent with equal praise ? 
Praise ! flow for ever (if astonishment 
Will give thee leave) my praise for ever flow ; 
Praise, ardent, cordial, constant, to high heav'n 
More fragrant than Arabia sacrific'd, 
And all her spicy mountains in a flame. 

rSo dear, so due to Heav'n, shall praise descend 
With her soft plume (from plausive angel's wing 
Virst pluck'd by man) to tickle mortal ears, 
Thus diving in "the pockets of the great ! 
Is praise the perquisite of ev'ry paw. 
Though black as hell, that grapples well for gold ? 
Oh love of gold, thou meanest of amours ! 
Shall praise her odours waste on virtue's dead ; 
Embalm the base, perfume the stench of guilt, 
Earn dirty bread by washing Ethiops fair ; 
Removing filth, or sinking it from sight, 

scavenger in scenes, where vacant posts 
' ike gibbets yet untenanted, expect 
j heir future ornaments ? From courii and thrones 
, Jeturn, apostate Praise ! thou vagabond! 

S ■ c 



50 THE COMPLAINT. Night IF. 

Thou prostitute ! to thy first love return ; 
Thy first, thy greatest, once unrivall'd them(*. 

There flow redundant, like Meander flow. 
Back to thy fountain, to that parent pow'r 
Who gives the tongue to sound, the thought to soar, 
The soul to be. Men homage pay to men ; 
Thoughtless beneath whose dreadful eye they bow, 
In mutual awe profound, of clay to clay, 
Of guilt to guilt, and turn their backs on thee, 
Great Sire ! whom thrones celestial ceaseless sing, 
To prostrate angels an amazing scene ! 
O the presumption of man's awe for man ! — 
Man's Author, End, Restorer, Law, and Judge ! 
Thine, all ; day thine, and thine this gloom of night? 
With all her wealth, with all her radiant worlds, 
AVhat, night eternal, but a frown from thee? 
What heav'n's meridian glory but thy smile ? 
And shall not praise be thine, not human praise. 
While heav'n's high host on halleluiah's live 1 

O may I breathe no longer than 1 breathe • 
■jMy soul in praise to Him who gave my soul, 
And all her infinite of prospect fair, 
Cut thro' the shades of hell, great Love ! by thee 
Oh most adorable ! most unador'd ! 
Where shall that praise begin which ne'er should end T 
Where'er I turn, what claim on all applause. 
How is Night's sable mantle laboured o'er, 
How richly wrought with attributes divine ! 
WhatAvisdom shines ! what love ! This midnight pompf 
This gorgeous arch, witli golden worlds inlaid! 
Built with divine ambition ! nought to thee : 
For others this profusion. Thou, apart. 
Above, beyond. Oh tell me, mighty Mind ! 
Where art thou 1 sliall I dive into the deep ? ■ 
Call to the sun '! or ask the roaring winds 
For their Creator? Shall I question loud 
The thunder, if in thatth' Almighty dwells ! 
Or holds He furious storms in straiten'd reins, 
And bids fierce whirlwinds wheel His rapid car? 

What mean these questions !— Trembling 1 retract; 
My prostrate soul adores the present God : 
Praise I a distant Deity ? He tunes 
My voi:e (if tun'd) : the nerve that writes sustains: 
Wrapp'd in his being I resound his praise : ^ 

But tho' past all diffus'd, without a shore 
His essence, local is His throne (as meet) 
To gather the di?pers'd (as standards call 
The liisted from afar) ; to fix a point, 



THE CHRISTIAN TRIUMPH. 51 

A. central point collective of His sons. 
Since finite ev'ry nature but His own. 

The nameless HE, whose nod is Nature's birth, 
And Nature's shield the shadow of his hand ; 
Her dissolution, his suspended smile .' 
The great First-Last ! pavilion'd high he sits 
In darkness from excessive splendor, borne, 
By gods unseen, unless thro' lustre lost. 
His glory, to created glory bright 
As that to central horrors : he looks down 
On all that soars, and spans immensity. 

Tho' night unnumber'd worlds unfolds to viev>, 
Boundless Creation ! what art thou ? a beam, 
A mere effluvium of his majesty. 
And shall an atom of this atom-world 
Mutter, in dust and sin, the theme of heav'n ? 
Down to the centre should I send my thought, 
Thro' beds of glitt'ring ore and glowing gems. 
Their beggar'd blaze wants lustre for my lay ; 
Goes out in darkness : if on tow'ring wing, 
I send it thro' the boundless vault of stars, 
(The stars, tho' rich, what dross their gold to Thee, 
Great, good, wise, wonderful, eternal King !) 
If to those conscious stars thy throne around, 
Praise ever-pouring, and imbibing bliss. 
And ask their strain ; they want it, more they want, 
Poor their abundance, humble their sublime, 
Languid their energy, their ardour cold : 
Indebted still, their highest rapture burns, 
Short of its mark, defective, tho' divine. 

Still more — this theme is man's, and man's alone ; 
Their vast appointments reach it not ; they see 
On earth a bounty not indulg'd on high. 
And downward look for heav'n's superior praise ! 
First-born of Ether ! high in fields of light ! 
View man, to see the glory of your God i 
Could angels envy, they had envied here : 
And some did envy : and the rest, tho' gods. 
Yet still gods unrcdeem'd (there triumphs man. 
Tempted to weigh the dust against the skies) 
They less would feel, tho' more adorn my theme. 
They sung creation (lor in that they shar'd ;) 
How rose in melody that child of Love '. 
Creation's great superior, man ! is tJiine ; 
Thine is Redemption : they just gave the key 
'Tis thine to raise and eternize the song, 
Tho' human, yet divine ; for should not this 
Raise man o'er man, and kindle seraphs here ■ 
Redemption 1 'twas creation more sublime ; 



52 THE COMPLAINT. JS'ighi Jr. 

Redecnptioni 'twas the labour of the skies : 
Far more than labour — it was death in heav'n. 
A truth so stracge, 'twere bold to think it true, 
If not far bolder still to disbelieve. 

Here pause and ponder. Was there death in heav'n ? 
What then on earth ? on earth, which struck the blow ? 
Who struck it ? Who ? — O how is man enlarg'd, 
Seen thro' this medium : Howthepigmj' tow'rs ! 
How counterpois'd his origin from dust ! 
How counterpois'd to dust his sad return ! 
How voided his vast distance from the skies ! 
How near he presses on the seraph's wing ! 
Which is the seraph ? Which the born of clay ? 
How this demonstrates, thro' the thickest cloud 
Of guiJt and clay condens'd, the Son of Hea\-'n ! 
The double Son ; the made, and the re-made ! 
And shall Heav'n's double property be lost ? 
Man's double madness only can de.?troy. 
'i'o man the bleeding Cross has promis'd all ; 
The bleeding Cross has sworn eternal grace. 
Who gave this life, what grace shall he deny ? 
O ye, who from this rock of ages leap. 
Apostates, plunging headlong in the deep! 
■What cordial joy, what consolation strong, 
Whatever winds arise, or billows roll, 
Our int'rest in the Master of the storm ! 
Clini there, and in wreck'd Nature's ruin smile. 
While vile Apostates tremble in a calm. 

Man, know thyself; all wisdom centres there. 
To none man seems igno'ole but to man. 
Angels that grandeur, men overlook, admire : 
How long shall human nature be their book, 
Uegen'rate mortal ! and unread by thee? 
The beam dim reason sheds shows wonders there 
What high contents ! illustrious faculties ! 
llut the grand comment, which displays at full 
Our human height, scarce sever'd from divine. 
By heav'n compos'd, was published on the Cross. 

Who looks on that, and sees not in himself 
An awful stranger, a terrestrial God ? 
A glorious partner v.ith the Ueity 
in that high attribute, immortal life ! 
If a god bleeds, he bleeds not for a Tvorm. 
J gaze, and as I gaze my mounting soul 
Catches strange fire. Eternity ! at thee. 
And drops tlie world— or, rather, more enjoys, 
How cbang'd the face of Nature ! how improv'd ! 
What EesEs'd a chaos, shines a glorious >vorld. 



THE CHRISTIAN TRIUMPH. 5 

Or, what a world, an Eden ; heighten'd all ! 
It is another scene, another self ! 
And still another, as time rolls along. 
And that a self far more illustrious still. 
Beyond long ages, yet roll'd up in shades 
Unpierc'dby bold conjecture's keenest ray, 
What evolutions of surprising fate ! 
How Nature opens, and receives my soul 
In boundless walks of raptur'd thought ! where gods 
Encounter and embrace me ! What new births 
Of strange adventure, foreign to the sun ! 
Where what now charms, perhaps whate'er exists, 
Old Time, and fair creation, are forgot ! 

Is this extravagant ? of man we form 
Extravagant conception to be just : 
Conception unconfin'd wants wings to reach him : 
Beyond its reach the Godhead only more. 
He the great Father ! kindled at one flame 
The world of rationals ; one spirit pour'd 
From spirit's awful fountain ; pour'd himself 
Through all their souls, but not an equal stream, 
Profuse, or frugal, of th' inspiring God, 
As his wise plan demanded ; and when past 
Their various trials, in their various spheres, 
If they continue rational, as made, 
Resorbs them ail into himself again. 
His throne their centre, and his smile their crown. 

Why doubt we then, the glorious truth to sing. 
Though yet unsung, as deem'd, perhaps, too bold t 
Angels are men of a superior kind ; 
Angels are men in lighter habit clad, 
High o'er celestial mountains wing'd in flight ; 
And men are angels ,Joaded for an hour. 
Who wade this miry vale, and climb with pain, 
And slipp'ry step, the bottom of the steep. 
Angels their failino-s, mortals have their praise ; 
While here, of corps ethereal, such enroll'd, 
And summon'd to the glorious standard soon. 
Which flames eternal crimson through the skies ; 
Nor are our brothers thoughtless of their kin. 
Yet absent ; but not absent from their love. 
Michael has fought our battles ; Raphael sung 
Our triumphs ; Gabriel on our errands flown. 
Sent by the !>;OV'REIGN : and are these, O man ! 
Tny friends, thy warm allies ? and thou (shame bura 
The cheek to cinder !) rival to the brute ? 

Religion's all. Descending from the slde^ 
• To >vretched luan, the goddess io her left 



64 THE COMPLAINT. Night IV. 

Holds out this world, and in her right the next. 
Religion ! the sole voucher man is man ; 
Supporter sole of man above himself ; 
E'en in this night of frailty, change and death, 
She gives the soul a soul that acts a god. 
Religion ! Providence '. an after-state ! 
Here is firm footing ; here is solid rock ; 
This can support us ; all is sea beside : 
Sinks under us ; bestorms, and then devours. 
His hand the good man fastens on the skies, 
And bids earth roll, nor feels her idle whirl. 

As when a wretch, from thick polluted air. 
Darkness and stench, andsulTocating damps, 
And dungeon-horrors, by kind fate discharg'd, 
Climbs some fair eminence, where ether pure 
Surrounds him and Elysian prospects rise, 
His heart exul js, his sirits cast their load, 
As if new-born he triumphs in the change ! 
So joys the soul, when from inglorious aims 
And sordid sweets from feculence and froth, 
Of ties terrestrial, set at large, she mounts 
To Reason's region, her own element. 
Breathes hopes immortal, and affects the skies. 
Religion ! thou the soul of happiness, 
And groaning Calvary, of thee, there shine 
The noblest truths ; there strongest motivessting; 
There sacred violence assaults the soul ; 
There nothing but com.pulsion is forborne. 
Can love allure us 1 or can terror awe 1 
He weeps ! — the falling drop puts out the sun. 
He sighs ! the sigh earth's deep foundation shakes. 
If in his love so terrible, what then 
His wrath inflam'd 1 his tenderness on fire, 
liike soft smooth oil, outblazing other fires ! 
Can pray'r, can praise avert it 1 — Thou, my all! 
My theme ! my inspiration ! and my crown ! 
•My strength in age ! my rise in low estate ! 
My soul's ambition, pleasure, wealth ! my world 1 
My light in darkness ! and my life in death ! 
My boast through time ! bliss through eternity ! 
Eternity, too short to speak thy praise, ; 

Or fathom thy profound of love to man ! 
To man of men the meanest, e'en to me ; 
My sacrifice ! my God !— what things are these ! 

What then art Thou ? By what name shall! call thee? 
Knew I the name devoutarchangels use. 
Devout archangels should the name enjoy, 
Byrne unrivall'd ; thousands more s ublime, 



THE CHRISTIAK TRIUMPH. 

None half so dear as that which tliough unspoke, 

Still glows at heart. O how omnipotence 

Is lost ID love ! thou great PH ILANTHROPIST ! 

Father of angels ! but the friend of man ! 

Like Jacob, fondest of the yoiingerborn ! 

Thou who didst save him, snatch the smoking branch 

From out the flames, and quench it in thy blood ! 

How ari thou pleas'd by bounty to distress ! 

To make us groan beneath our gratitude, 

Too big for birth I to fa\our and confound ; 

Tochallenge, and to distance all return ! 

Of lavish love stupendous heights to soar, 

And leave praise panting in the distant vale ! 

Thy right too great defrauds thee of thy due, 

And sacrilegious our sublimest song. 

But since the naked will obtains thy smile, 

Beneath this monument of praise unpaid, 

And future life symphonious to my strain, 

(That noblest hymn to Heaven !) for ever lie 

intomb'd my fear of death ! and ev'ry fear, 

The dread of ev'ry evil but thy frown. 

Wliom see I yondei^o demurely smile? 
Ijaughter a labour, and might break their rest. 
Ye Quietists, in homage to the skies ! 
Serene ! of soft address ! Avho mildly make 
An unobtrusive tender of your hearts, 
Abhorring violence ! who halt indeed; 
But, for the blessing, wrestle not with Heaven! 
Think you my song too turbulent 1 too waim 1 
Are passions, then, the pagans of the soul] 
Reason alone baptiz'd ! alone ordain'd 
To touch things sacred? Oh for warmer still ! 
Guilt chills my zeal, and age benumbs my powers : 
Oh for an humbler heart and prouder song ! 
THOU, my much-injur'd theme ! with that soft eye 
Which melted o'er doom'd Salem, deign to look 
Compassion to the coldness of my breast, 
And pardon to the winter in ray strain. 

Oh ye cold-hearted, frozen formalists ! 
On such a theme 'tis impious to be calm. 
Passion is reason, transport temper, here. 
Shall Heaveii, which gave us ardour, and has showa 
Her own for man so strongly, not disdain 
What smooth emollients in theology, 
Recumbent virtue's downy doctors preach, 
That prose of piety, a lukewarm praise 1 
Rise odours sweet from incense uninflam'd? 
DevGtioa, wbeo lukewarm, is undevout ; 



55 THE COMPLAINT. Nighi IK 

But when it glows, its heat is struck to heaven; 
To human hearts her golden harps are strung; 
High Heaven's orchestra chaunts Amen to man. 

Hear I, or dream I hear, their distant strain, 
Sweet to the soul and tasting strong of heaven, 
Soft wafted on celestial Pity's plume, 
Through the vast spaces of the universe, 
To cheer me in this melancholy gloom? 
Oh when will death (now stingless) like a friend, 
Admit me of their choir? Oh when will death 
This mould'ring old partition-wall throw down ? 
Oive beings, one in nature, one abode? 
Oh death divine ! that giv'st to us the skies ! 
Great future '. glorious patron of the past 
And present, when shall I thy shrine adore? 
From Nature's continent immensely wide. 
Immensely bless'd, this little isle of life, 
This dark incarcerating colony 
Divides us. Happy day that breaks our chain t 
That manumits; that calls from exile home; 
That leads to Nature's great metropolis, 
And re-admits us, through the gu^dian hand 
Of elder brothers, to our Father's throne. 
Who hears our advocate, and through his wounds 
Beholding man, allows that tender name. 
'Tis this makes Christian triumph a command: 
'Tis this makes joy a duty to the wise. . 
'Tis impious in a good man to be sad. 

Seest thou, Lorenzo, where bangs all our hope ? 
Touch'd by the cross we live, or more than die ; 
That touch which touch'd not angels ; more divine 
Than that which touch'd confusion into form, 
And darkness into glory : partial touch ! 
Ineffably pre-eminent regard ! 
Sacred to man, and sov'reign through the whole 
I,ong golden chain of miracles which hangs 
From heaven through all duration, and supports 
In one illustrious and amazing plan, 
Thy welfare, Nature, and thy God's renown ; 
That touch, with charm celestial, heals the soul 
Diseas'd, drives pain from guilt, lights life in death, 
'iurns earth to heaven, to heavenly thrones transforms 
'I'he ghastly ruins of the mould'ring tomb. 

Dost ask me when? When he who died returns; 
Returns, how chang'd ! where then the man of wo ? 
In glory's terrors all the Godhead burns, 
And all his courts exhausted by the tide 
Of deities triumphant in hia train, 
Leave a .siupeiidous solitude in heaven-, 



THE CHRISTIAN TRIUMPH. 57 

Replenish'd soon, replenish'd with increase 
Of pomp and multitude ; a radiant band 
Of angels new, of angels from the tomb. 

Is this by fancy thrown remote 1 and rise 
Dark doubts between the promise and event ? 
I send thee not to volumes for thy cure ; 
Read Nature; Nature is a friend to truth; 
Nature is Christian ; preaches to mankind, 
And bids dead matter aid us in our creed. 
Hast thou ne'er seen the comet's flamin? flight? 
Th' illustrious stranger passing, terror sheds 
On gazing nations from his fiery train. 
Of length enormous, takes his ample round 
Through depths of ether ; coasts unnumber'd worlds, 
Of more than solar glory ; doubles wide 
Heaven's mighty cape; and then revisits earth, 
From the long travel of a thousand years. 
Thus at the destin'd period shall return 
He, once on e^rth, who bids the comet blaze; 
And with him, all our triumph o'er the tomb. 

Nature is dumb on this important point, 
Or Hope precarious in low whisper breathes : 
Faith speaks aloud, distinct ; e'en adders hear, 
But turn, and dart into the dark again. 
Faith builds a bridge across the gulf of death. 
To break the shock blind Nature cannot shun, 
And lands Thought smoothly on the farther shore. 
JJeath's terror is the mountain Faith removes, 
That mountain-barrier between man and peace. 
'Tis Faith disarms Destruction, and absolves 
From ev'ry clam'rous charge the guiltless tomb. 

Why disbelieve, Lorenzo ! — " Reason bids, 
" All sacred Reason."— Hold her sacred still; 
Nor Shalt thou want a rival in thy flame : 
All-sacred Reason ! source and soul of all 
Demanding praise on earth, or earth above ! 
My heart is thine : deep in its inmost folds 
Live thou Avith life; live dearer of the two. 
Wear I the blessed cross, by Fortune stamp'd 
On passive Nature before Thought was born J 
My birth's blind bigot ! fir'd with local zeal ! 
No; Reason rebaptiz'd me when aduit; 
Weigh'd true and false in her impartial scale; 
My heart became the convert of my head. 
And made that choice which onre v.as but my fate. 
" On argument alone my faith is built :" 
Reiison pursu'd is faith ; and unperus'd 
Where proof invites, 'tis reason then no Kore; 
c2 



5$ THE COMPLAINT. rfigkt IV. 

And such our proof, that, or our faith is right, 
Of Reason lies, and Heaven design'd it wrong. 
Absolve we this ? what then is blasphemy ? 

Fond as we are, and justly, fond of laith, 
Reason, we grant, demands our first regard : 
The mother houour'd, as the daughter dear. 
Reason the root, fair Faith is but the flower : 
The fading flower shall die, but Reason lives 
Immortal, as her father in the skies. 
When faith is virtue, reason makes it so. 
Wrong not the Christian : think not reason your's ; 
'Tis reason our great master holds so dear ; 
'Tis reason's injur'd rights his wrath resents ; 
'Tis reason's voice obey'd, his glories crown : 
To give lost reason life, he pour'd his own. 
Believe, and show the reason of a man ; 
Believe, and taste the pleasure of a god ; 
Believe, and look with triumph on the tomb. 
Through reason's wounds alone thy faith can die ; 
AVhich dying, ten-fold terror gives to death, 
And dips in venom his twice-mortal sting. 

Learn hence what honours, what loud paeans due, 
To those who push our antidote aside ; 
Those boasted friends to reason and to man, 
Whose fatal love stabs every joy, and leaves 
Death's terror heighten'd gnawing at his heart. 
These pompous sons of reason idoliz'd, 
And vilifled at once ; of reason dead. 
Then deided as monarchs were of old; 
What conduct plants proud laurels on their brow 1 
While love of truth through all their camp resounds, 
They draw Pride's curtain o'er the noon-tide ray, 
8pike up their inch of reason on the point 
Of philosophic wit, call'd argument. 
And then exulting in their taper, cry, 
'* Behold the sun;" and, Indian-like, adore. 

Talk they of morals ? O thou bleeding Love ! 
Thou maker of new morals to mankind ! 
The grand morality is love of Thee. 
As wise as Socrates, if such they were, 
(Nor will they 'bate of that sublime renown) . 
As wise as Socrates, might justly stand 
The definition of a modern fool. 

A Christian is the highest style of man. 
And is there who the blessed cross wipes off, 
As a foul blot, from his dishonour'd brow? 
If angels tremble, 'tis at such a sight : 
The wretch they quit, desponding of their charge, 
More struck wilb grief or wonder who call tell? 



THE CHRISTIAN TRIUMPH. 59 

Ye solel to sense ! ye citizens of earth ! 
(For such alone the Christian banner fly) 
Know ye how wise your choice, how great your gain. 
Behol'i the picture of earth's happiest man : 
" He calls his wish, it comes ; he sends it back, 
" And says he call'd another; that arrives, 
" Meets the same welcome ; yet he still calls on ; 
•' Till One calls him, who varies not his call, 
" But holds him fast, in chains of darkness bound, 
" Till Nature dies, and judgment sets him free : 
" A freedom far less welcome than his chain." 

But grant man happy ; grant him happy long ; 
Add to life's hiehest prize her latest hour ; 
That hour, so late, is nimble in approach, 
That, like a post, comes on in full career. 
How swift the shuttle flies that weaves thy shroud ! 
Where is the fable of thy former years ? 
Thrown down the gulf of time ; as far from thee 
As they had ne'er been thine ; the day in hand, 
Like a bird struggling to get loose, is going; 
Scarce now possess'd so suddenly 'tis gone ; 
And each swiit moment fled, is death advanc'd 
By strides as swift. Eternity is all; - 
And whose eternity? who triumphs there ? 
Bathing for ever in the font of bliss ? 
For ever basking in the Deity ! 
Lorenzo, who! — thy conscience shall reply. 

O give it leave to speak ; 'twill speak ere long. 
Thy leave unask'd : Lorenzo, hear it now, 
While useful its advice, its accent mild. 
By the great edict, the divine decree, 
Truth is deposited with man's last hour ; 
An honest hour, and faithful to her trust; 
Truth, eldest daughter of the Deity ! 
Truth of his council when he made the worlds ! 
3S"or less, when he shall judge the worlds he made ; 
Though silent long, and sleeping ne'er so sound, 
8mother'd with errors, and oppress'd with toys, 
That heaven commission'd hour no sooner calls, 
But from her cavern in the soul's abyss. 
Like him they fable under J^ltna whelm'd, 
The goddess bursts in thunder and in flame. 
Loudly convinces, and severely pains. 
Dark daemons I discharge, and hydra stings ; 
'i'he keen vibration of bright truth — is hell ; 
Just detinition! though by schools untaught. 
Ye deaf to truth, peruke this parson'd page. 
And trust, for once, a prophet and a priest : 
• • Mtu jiiay live fools, but fools they car-nct i:t ' 



THK 

COMPLAINT. 

JS'IGHT V. 
THE RELAPSE. 

INSCRIBED TO THE RT. HON. THE EARL OP LITCHFIELD. 

Lorenzo ! to recriminate is just. 
Fondness for fame is avarice of air. 
1 grant the man is rain who writes for praise. 
Praise no man e'er deserv'd, who sought no more. 

As just thy second charge. I grant the muse 
Has often blush'd at her degen'rate sons, 
Retain'd by sense to plead her filthy cause, 
To raise the low, to magnify the mean, 
And subtilize the gross into refin'd : 
As if to magic numbers pow'rful charm 
'Twas given to make a civet of their song 
Obscene, and sweeten ordure to perfume. 
Wit, a true Pagan, deifies the brute, 
And lifts our swine-enjoyments from the mire. 

The fact notorious, nor obscure the cause. 
We wear the chains of pleasure and of pride : 
These share the man, and these distract him too ; 
Draw different ways, and clash in their commands. 
Pride, like an eagle, builds among the stars ; 
But Pleasure, iark-like, nests upon the ground. 
Joys shar'dby brute creation Pride resents, 
Pleasure embraces ; man would both enjoy, 
And both at once : a point how hard to gain ! 
But what can't Wit, when stung by strong desire ! 

Wit dares atteippt this arduous enterprise. 
Since joys of sense can't rise to Reasons's tastej 
In subtle Sophistry's laborious forge, 
Wit hammers out a reason Dejv^ that stoops 



THE RELAPSE. 6, 

To sordid scenes, and meets them with applause. 

AVjt calls the Graces the chaste zone to loose- 

A or less than a plump god to fill the bowl : ' 

A thousand phantoms, and a thousand spells 

A thousand opiates scatters to delude, 

1 o lascinate, inebriate, lay asleep, 

Th[!^VrJ°°K-''^'"i"'^,'^'>.''" delightfully confound. 

T^^t Im ^ ""^ shock'd the judgment shocks no more. 

That which gave Pnde offence no more offends 

Pleasure and Pride, by nature mortal foes 

At war eternal which in man shall reign, ' 

By \\ It's address patch up a fatal peace, 

And hand-in-hand lead on the rank debauch 

V rom rank, retin'd to delicate and gay 

Art, cursed Art ! wipes off th' indebted blush 

rom Jvature's check, and bronzes ev'ry shame. 
Wan smiles in Ruin, glories in his guilt, 
ind Infamy stands candidate for praise. 

All writ by man in favour of the soul, 
rhese sensual ethics far, in bulk, transcend. 
I he flow-'rs of eloquence profusely pour'd 
) er spotted Vice, fill half the letter'd world, 
an pow'rs of genius exercise their page, 
Lnd consecrate enormities with song ? 
tut let not these inexpiable strains 
■ondenin the muse that knows her dignity 
iOT meanly stops at time, but holds the world 
ts tis, in JVature's ample field, a point, 
L pomt in her esteem ; from whence to start, 
;nd run the round of universal space, 
o visit being universal there, 
nd being's source, that utmost flight of mind ! 
et spite ot this so vast circumference, 
f ell knows but what is moral, nought is great 
mg byrens only ? do not angels sing '' 
here is in Poesy a decent pride, 
Huch well becomes her when she speaks to Prose 
er younger sister, haply not more wise. 
Think'st thou, Lorenzo, to find pastimes here' 
o guilty passion blown into a flame, 
o foible flatter'd, dignity disgrac'd, 
o fairy field of fiction, all on flower, 
o rainbow colours here, or silken tale- 
nt solemn counsels, imatres of awe ' 
ruths which Eternity lets fall on man 
ith double weight, thro' these revolving spheres, 
his death-deep silence, and incumbent shade : 
loushts such as shall rs- visit ;your last hour, 



62 THE COMPLAINT. iSlg^t 

Visit uncall'd and live when life expires ; 
And thy dark pencil, Midnight ! darker still 
in melancholy dipp'd, eml rowns the t\ hole. 

Yet this, e'en this, my laughter-loving friends, 
Lorenzo ! and thy brothers of the smile ! 
If what imports you most can most engage, 
Shall steal your ear, and chain you to my song. 
Or if you fail me, know the v.'ise shall taste 
The truths I shig; the truths I sing shall feel, 
And, feeling, give assent ; and their assent 
Is ample recompence : is more than praise 
Rut chiefly thine, O Litchfield ! nor mistake! 
Think not unintroduc'd I force ray way; 
Narcissa, not unknown, not unallay'd 
By virtue, or by blood, illustrious Youth ! 
To thee from b'looming am.aranthine bow'rs. 
Where all the language Harmony, descends 
I'ncall'd, and asks admittance for the muse; 
A muse that will not pain thee with tliy praise : 
Thy prai e she drops, by nobler still inspir'd. 
O thou, blest Spirit ! whether the supreme, 
Great antemundaiie Father! in whose breast 
Fmbryo creation, unborn being, dwelt, 
And ail its various revolutions roll'd 
Present, tho' future, prior to themselves; 
Whose breath can blow it into nought again, 
Or from his throne some delegated pow'r, 
Who, studious of our peace, dost turn the thought i 
From vain and vile, to solid and sublime ! 
I'nseen tliou lead'st me to delicious draughts 
Of inspiration, from a purer stream, 
.A.nd fuller of the God than that which burst 
From fam'dCastalia; nor is yet allay'd 
My sacred thirsrt, tho' long my .soul has rang'd 
Thro' pleasing paths of moral and divjne. 
By these sustain'd and lighted by the stars. 

"Bv them best lighted are the paths of thought; 
Nights are their days, their most illurain'd hours! 
By- day the soul o'erborne by life's career, 
Stunn'dby the din, and giddy with the glare, 
ft eels far from reason, jostled by the throng. 
•Hyday the soul is passive, all her thoughts 
I mpo's'd, precarious, broken, ere mature. 
By niglit, from objects free, from passion cool, 
Thoughts uncontroll'd, and unimpress'd, the bii 
0{ pure election, arbitrary range, 
Kot ;o the limits of cue world cojifin'd, 



THE RELAPSE. 

?ut from ethereal travels light on earth, 
is voyagers drop anchor lor repose. 

I^et Indians, and the gay, like Indians, fond 
)f feather'd fopperies, the sun aciore ; 
Darkness has more divinity for me; 
;t strikes thought inward ; it drives back the sou! 
Po settle on herself, our point supreme ! 
rhei-e lies our theatre; there sits our judge. 
)arkness the curtain drops o'er life's dull scene ; 
Tis the kind hand of Providence stretch'd out 
Pwist man and vanity ; 'ti.s Reason's reign 
ind Virtue's too : these tutelary.shades 
ire man's asylum from the tainted thron?. 
Jightis the good man's friend, and guardian too, 
t no less rescues virtue than inspires. 
Virtue, for ever frail as fair below, 
ler tender nature suffers in the crow'd, 
or touches on the world without a stain, 
'he world's infectious ; few bring back at eve, 
mmaculate, the manners of the morn, 
omething we thought is blotted : we resclv'd, 
5 shaken ; we renounc'd, returns again. 
3ach salutation may slide in a sin 
Inthought before, or fix a former flaw, 
for is it strange ; light, motion, concourse, noise, 
lU scatter us abroad. Thought, ouiward bound, 
feglectful of our home-affairs, flies off 
a fume and dissipation, quits her chargp, 
,nd leaves the breast unguarded to the. foe. 
Present example gets within our guard, 
nd acts with double force, by few repeli'd. 
mbition fires ambition ; love of gain 
trikes like a pestilence, from breast to breast : 
iot, pride, perfidy, blue vapours breathe, 
nd inhumanity is caught from man, 
rom smiling man ! a slight, a single glance, 
nd shot at random, often has brought home 
sudden fever to the throbbing heart 
f envy, rancour, or impure desire. 
Te see, we hear, with peril ; saJ'ety dwells 
emote from multitude. The world's a school 
f wrong, and what proiicients swarm around 1 
''e must or imitate or disapprove ; 
tust lint as their accomplices or fees : 
'fuit stains our innocence, this wounds our peace, 
rom Nature's birth, hence. Wisdom has been smit 
nth sweet recess, acU languisb'd for the shade. 



61 THE COMPLAINT. Nighl V. 

This sacred shade and solitude what is it ? 

'Tis the felt presence of the Deity. 

Few are the faults we flatter when alone. 

Vice sinks in her allurements, is ungilt, 

And looks, like other objects, blackby night. 

By night an atheist half believes a God. 
Night is fair Virtue's immemorial friend, 

The conscious moon, thro' ev'ry distant age, 

Has held a lamp to Wisdom, and let fall, 

On Contemplation's eye her purging ray. 

The fam'd Athenian, he who woo'd from heaven 

Philosophy the fair, to dwell with men, 

And form their manners, not inflame their pride, 

While o'er his head, as fearful to molest 

His lab'ring mind, the stars in silence slide, 

And seem all gazing on their future guest ; 

See him soliciting his ardent suit 

In private audience ; all the live-long night. 

Rigid in thought, and motionless he stands. 

Nor quits his tlieme or posture till the sun 

(Rude drunkard ! rising rosy ffom the main) 

Disturbs his nobler intellectual beam, 

And gives him to the tumult of the world. 

Hail, precious moments ! stol'n from the black waste 

Of murder'd time ! auspicious Midnight ! hail ! 

The world excluded ev'ry passion hush'd. 

And open'd a calm intercourse with Heav'n, 

Here the soul sits in council, pf^nders past, 

I'redestines future action; sees, not feels, 

Tumultuous life', and reasons with the storm ; 

All her lies answers^ and thinks down her charms. 

What awful joy ! what mental libert)^ ! 

1 am not pent in darkness ; rather say 

(If not too bold) in darkness I'm embower'd. 

Delightful gloom! the clust'ring thoughts around 

Spontaneous rise, and blossom in the shade, 

But droop by day, and sicken in the sun. 

Thought borrows light elsewhere; from that first fire, 

Fountain of animation ! whence descends 

Urania, my celestial guest! who deigns 

Nightly to vi.sit me, so mean ; and now, 

Conscious how needful discipline to man, 

From pleasing dalliance with the charms of night, 

My wanl'ring thought recalls, to what excites 

Far other beat of heart, Narcissa's tomb ! 

■ Or is it feeble Nature calls me back. 

And breaks my spirit into grief again ? fj'is 

(s it a Stygian vapour in my blood ? '^lo 



THE RELAPSE. 

A cold slow puddle creeping through my veins '> 
Or ,s .t thus with all men ?-Thus lith Jll ' 

If hat are we ! how unequal ! now we soar 
And now we sink. To be the same transcends 
Our present prowess. Dearly pays the soul 
Jor lodgmg in; too dearly rent! her clay ^ 
JeasoD, a baffled counsellor! but adds ^ 
1 he blush of weakness to the bane of wo. 
rhe noblest spirit, fighting her hard fate 
.n this damp, dusky region, charg'd with storms 
3ut feebly flutters yet untaught to fly- ^'^'' 
Z'J^yj^S, short her flight, and sure her fall • 
>ur utmost strength, when down, to rise acain 
Ind not to yield, though beaten,'all oir prS 

>v-n,!L''^'" *^ ^-^^^ '" ™^" '■o'' "lo'-e than man. ' 
hough proud in promise, big in previous thought 
;xperience damps our triumph. I, who late ^ ' 
.merging from the shadows of the grave 
niere grief detain'd me prisoner, mounting high, 
rZ\^^ the gates of everlasting day, ^ 

ntlrl*^ ?^",''^°J *° ^^"'■y' sf'ook oirpain, 

ortahty shook off, in ether pure, 
nd struck the stars, now feel my spirits fail; 
hey drop me from the zenith; down I rush 
Ike him whom fable fledg'd with waxen wink, 
I sorrow drown'd— but not in sorrow lost 
ow wretched is the man who never mourn'd ' 
dive for precious pearl in sorrow's stream • 
ot so the thoughtless man that only grieves 
?p«f-'"K^ *°.""''"* ^''^ ^^je^ts the fain' ' 
aestimable gam) and gives Heav'n leave 

lf°l:l^ ""• ''"* T""^ wretched, not more wise. 
If TV sdom is our lesson (and what else 
nobles man? what else have angels learn'd''l 
lef . more proficients in thy school are made 
an genius or proud learning e'er could boast 
Tacious learning, often over-fed, 
^ests not into sense her motley meal. 
IS book-case, with dark booty almost burst, 
is forager on others wisdom, leaves 
r native farm, her reason, quite untill'd. 
th mixt manure she surfeits the rank soil, 
ng d, but not dress'd, and rich to beggary • 
'orop untameable of weeds prevails • ' 
r servant's wealth incumber'd wisdom mourns, 
nd T<hat says Genius ? ' Let the dull be wise.' 
iius, too hard for right, can prove it wrong, 
loves to boast, where blush men less inspir'4 



66 THE COMPLAINT. Night F* .\ 

It pleads exemption from the laws of sense, 
Considers reason as a leveller, 
And scorns to share a feles.sing with the crowd. 
That wise it could be, thinks an ample claim 
To glory, and to pleasure gives the rest. 
Crassus but sleeps, Ardelio is undone. 
Wisdom less shudders at a fool than wit. 

But wisdom smiles, when humbled mortals weep. 
When sorrow wounds the breast, as ploughs the glebe,?! 
And hearts obdurate feel her soft'ningshow'r: '. ; 

Her seed celestial, then, glad wisdom sows ; 
Her golden harvest triumphs in the soil. 
If so, Narcissa, welcome my relapse; 
I'll raise a tax on my calamity. 
And heap rich compensation from my pain. 
I'll range the plenteous intellectual field, 
And gather ev'ry thought of sov'reign pow'r 
To chase the moral maladies of man ; 
Thoughts which may bear transplanting to the skies, 
Though natives of this coarse penurious soil; 
Nor wholly wither there where seraphs sing. 
Refin'd, exalted, not annull'd in hcav'n : 
Reason, the sun, that gives them birth, the same 
In either clime, tho' more illustrious there. 
These choicely cull'd, and elegantly rang'd 
Shall form a garland for Narcissa's tomb, 
Andperadventure, of no fading flow'rs. 

Say, on what themes shall puzzled choice descendi 
" Th' importance of contemplating the tomb; 
'* Why men decline it : suicide's toul birth; 
.1 The various kinds of grief; the faults of age ; 
" A.nd death's dread character— invite my song." 
And, first, th' importance of our end survey'd. 
Friends counsel quick dismission of our grief. 
Mistaken kindness ! our hearts heal too soon. 
Are they more kind than He who struck the blow » 
Who bid it do his errand in our hearts, 
And banish peace, till nobler guests arrive. 
And bring it back a true and endless peace 7 
Calamities are friends : as glaring day 
Of these unnumber'd lustres rob our sight, 
Prosperity puts out unnumber'd thoughts 
Of import high, and light divine to man. 

The man how bless'd, who, sick of gaudy scenCB,. 
(Qcenes apt to thrust between us and ourselves !) 
3s led by choice to take his fav'rite walk 
Beneath Death's gloomy, silent, cypress shades^ 
linpierc'd by Vsnity's fcnlastic ray ; 



THE RELAPSE. 
To read his monuments, to weigh his dust, 
Visit his vaults, and dwell among the tombs • 
Lorenzo, read with me Narcissa's stone • 
(Narcissa was thy fav'rite) let us read ' 
Her moral stone ; few doctors preach so well • 
* ew orators so tenderly can touch 
The feeling heart. What pathos in the date ! 
Apt words can strike ; and yet in them we see 
Faint images of what we here enjoy 
What cause have we to build on length of life • 
1 emptations seize when fear is laid asleep 
And ill forboded is our strongest guard. 

See from her tomb, as from an liumble shrine 
Truth, radiant goddess ! sallies on my soul, 
And puts Delusion's dusky train to flight- 
Dispels the mist our sultry passions raise' 
From objects low, terrestrial, and obscene. 
And shows the real estimate of tilings, 
Which no man, unafflicted, ever saw; 
Pulls off the veil from Virtue's rising charms • 
Detects temptation in a thousand lies. ' 

Truth bids me look on men as autumn leaves, 
And all they bleed for as the summer's dust 
Driv'nby the whirlwind : lighted by her beams, 
I widen my horizon, gain new pow'rs. 
See things invisible, feel things remote, 
Am present with futurities ; think nought 
To man so foreign as the joys possess'd; 
Nought so much his as those beyond the' grave 

Ko folly keeps its colour in her sight; 
Pale worldly wisdom loses all her charms ; 
(n pompous promise from her schemes profound, 
[f future fate she plans, 'tis all in leaves, 
yike Sibyl, unsubstantial fleeting bliss 1 
4.t the first blast it vanishes in air. 
Mot so celestial : Wouldst thou know, Lorenzo, 
-low differ worldly wisdom and divine ? 
(ust as the waning and the waxing moon : 
tfore empty worldly wisdom ev'ry day: 
Ind ev'ry day more fair her rival shines. 
Vhen later, there's less time to play the fool. 
!oon our whole term for wisdom is expir'd. 
Thou know'st she calls no council in the grave) 
Lnd everlasting fool is writ in fire, 
>r real wisdom wafts us to the skies. 
As worldly schemes resemble Sibyl's leaves, 
he good man's days to Sibyl's books compare, 
|tn ancient story read, thou know'st the tale) 



68 THE COMPLAIjS^T. Tfight K 

In price still rising as in number less, 

Inestiniabie quite his final hour. 

For that who thrones can offer, offer thrones ; 

Insolvent worlds the purchase cannot pay. 

" Oh let me die his death ?" all nature cries. 

" Then live his life."— All nature falters there; 

Our great physician daily to consult, 

To commune with the grave, our only cure. [yet, 

What grave prescribes the best'?— A friend's; anoli 

From a friend's grave how soon we disengage ! 

E'en to the dearest, as his marble, cold. 

Why arc friends raTish'd from us 1 'Tis to bind, 

By soft Affection's ties on human hearts 

The thought of death, which reason, too supine, 

Or misemploy'd, so rarely fastens there. 

Nor reason, nor affection, no, nor both 

Combin'd, can break the witchcrafts of the world. 

Behold th' inexorable hour at hand ! 

Behold th' inexorable hour forgot ! 

And to forget it the chief aim of life. 

Tho' well to ponder it is life's chief end. 

Is death, that ever-threat'ning, ne'er remote, 

That all-important, and that only sure, 
(Come when he will) an unexpected guest? 

Nay, though invited by the loudest calls 

Of blind imprudence, unexpected still. 
Though num'rouB messengers are sent before, 
To warn his great arrival. What the cause, 
The wondrous cause, of this mysterious ill? 
AH heav'n looks down, astonisli'd at the sight. 

Is it that Life has sown her joys so thick 
We can't thrust in a single care between? 
Is it that Life has such a swarm of cares, 
The thought of death can't enter for the throng " 
Is it that time steals on with downy feet, 
Nor wakes indulgence from her golden dream? 
To-day is so like yesterday, it cheats : 
We take the lying sister for the same. 
Life glides away, Lorenzo, like a brook, 
For ever changing, unperceiv'd the change : 
In the same brook none ever bath'd him twice; 
To tlie same life none ever twice awoke. 
We call the brook the same ; the same we tljink 
Our life, though still more rapid in its flow, 
Nor mark the much irrevocably laps'd, 
And mineled with the sea. Or shall we say 
(Retaining still the brook to bear us on) 
Taatlire is like a vessel oa the stream ? 



THE RELAPSE. ^^ 

il^Sf ^^'^•'^'l.' f ^ smootlily down the tide 
3f time descend, but not op time intent - 

hat domineering mistress of the sou] • ' 
,ike hioi so strong by Dalilah the fair » 
■r IS It fear turns startled reason back ' 
^:«^l°oJ[ingdown a precipice osteep ' 
^is dreadful, and the dread is wisely nfac'd 
y Nature, conscious of the make of man ' 

dreadful friend it is,a terroVJind 

flamms sword to guard the tree oflife 
/that unaw'd, in life's most smiling hour 

e good man would repine ; would sSr iovs 

J burn impatient for his promis'd sk ef '' ^ ' 
^ ^linm neu^"^ P^^nctilious pique of pn'de. 

gloom of humour, wouldgive ra^^e the roin 
'undo'er the barrier, rush into the dark "^' 
.d mar the scenes of providence below ' 
IVhat groan was that, Lorenzo ? Furies rise 
.d drown, m your less execrable ye[l ' ' ' 
itanma's shame. There took her ^loomv fli-rht 

wing impetuous, a black sullen soul ^ °'^ 
yMZTitV''''' ""T'"' ^"^tof'death. 
callM t thn.^'fr- *^^ «^"^"t Altamont, 
call d, so thought— and then he fled the firlrf 

H^'^ th V^-J- of death than feS- of life 
)ritain ! infamous for suicide ' 
Jslaod, in thy manners, far disjoin'd 
■m the whole world of rationals beside ! 
Ti}T}- ''^';'^? P^""ee thy polluted head 
>h the dire stain, nor shock the continen 
utthou be shock'd while I detect the Suse 
. -T K^*"' '^''P^'^ the monster's birth 
I bid abhorrence hiss it round the world 
ne not thy clime, nor chide the distant S'm- 

sun 13 innocent, thy clime absolv'd ' 

loral climes kind Nature never made' 

cause 1 smg in Eden might prevail, " 

proves It is thy folly, not thy fate, 
soul of man (let man in homage bow 
' names his soul) a native of be skies ! 
i-born and free, her freedom should maintiia 

Id, unmcrtgag'U lor earth's liuie bSS 



^0 THE COMPLAINT. Night 

Th' illustrious stranger in this foreign land, 
Like strangers jealous of lier dignity. 
Studious of home, and ardent to return 

SfS^iSofrS^lS?^o^«uffindul^ 

?^r?aS^«;^Se^i.r^h^ 

But some reject this sustenance divine . 
To beg-arly vile appetites descend, 
A=k alms of earth for guests that came from heav n , 
Sink iirto slaves, and sell for present hire 
Their rich reversion and (what shares its fate) 
Thek native freedom to the prince who sways 
?Ms nether world ; and -hen his payments fail. 
WheT his foul basket gorges them no more, 
Or the r pall'd palates loath the basket full. 
Are instantly, with wild demoniac rage. 
Fir b eak\ngku the chains of Pr^'^fnce' „,d 
And bursting their confinement, tho' last barr a 
Bylaws divfne and human -, guarded strong ■ 
With horrors doubled to defend the pa^s, 
The I ackest. Nature, or dire guilt can raise, 
ISd moated round with fathomless destruction, 
Snre to receive, and whelm them in their fall. 
sSch Britons is the cause, to you unknown 

l&i^s^r=s.--kuiit. 

^Shfa^r^^Natui^smurde^^^^ 

At on?e to shun and meditate h'^ end 
When by the bed of languishraent we s t, 
fThe seat of wisdom ! if our choice, not late) 
^ro^er our dying friends in anguish hang, 
winf^thc cold dew, or stay the sinking head, 
Ker their moments, and in every clock 
Start at the voice of an eternity ; 
See the dim lamp of life .lust feebly lift 
An agonizing beam at us to gaze. 
Then sink again, and quiver into death, 



THE RELAPSE. 71 

perfect vengeance ? No, in pity sent, 
o melt him down, like wax, and then impress 
idelible, death's image on his heart "^^^^^' 
eedjng for others, trembling for himself 
e bleed, we tremble-we forget, we sm ie 
^e mmd turns fool before the cheek is dry 
ir quick returning folly cancels all, ^ 

5 the tide rushing rases what is writ 
yielding sands, and smooths the letter'd shore 
Lorenzo, hast thou ever weigh'd a sigh ^ 
studied the philosophy of tears "^ ' 

science yet unlectur'd in our schools.) 
ist thou descended deep into the breast. 
Id seen their source ? if not, descend with me, 
.d trace these briny riv'lets to their spring" ' 
Jurfun'ral tears from diff-'rent causes rise • 
It from sep'rate cisterns in the soul, 
various kinds they flow. From tender hearts, 
soft contagion call'd, some burst at once 
d stream obsequious to the leading eye • 
me ask more time, by curious art distill'd 
ne hearts, in secret hard, unapt to melt 
uck by the magic of the public eye 
:e Moses' smitten rock, gush out amain : 
ne weep to share the fame of the deceas'd 
high in merit, and to them so dear • ' 

¥,^Z^^^ ?J! praises which they think they share 
d thus, without a blush, commend themselves 
ne mourn in proof that something they could "love • 
3y weep not to relieve their griel', but show ' 

le weep m perfect justice to the dead, 
conscious all their love is in arrear 
\e mischievously weep, not unappriz'd 
irs sometimes aid the conquest of an eve 
h what address the soft Ephesians drew 
:ir sable net-work o'er entangled hearts ' 
>een through crystal, how their roses glow 
lie liquid pearl runs trickling down their cheek ' 
her's not prouder, Egypt's wanton queen, 
Jiismg gems, herself dissolv'd in love 
Z l^P f^^-f^^}}; abstracted from the dead, 
ce ebrate like Charles, their own decease 
iind construction some are deem'd to ween 
luse a decent veil conceals their ioy 
'me weep in earnest, and yet weep in vain • 
jeep in indiscretion as in wo 
«on, blind passion .' impotently pours 
fS that deserve more tears, while Reasou sjeep^ 



72 TffE COMPLAINT. mght 0, 

Or gazes, like an ideot, unconcem'd, 
Nor comprehends the meaning of the storm ; 
Knows not it speaks to her and her alone. 
Irrationals all sorrow are beneath, 
That noble gift ' that privilege of man ! _ 
From sorrow's pang, the birth of endless joy; 
But these are barren of that birth divine : 
They weep impetuous us the summer storm, 
And full as short! the cruel grief soon tam d. 
They make a pastime of the stingless tale ; 
Far as the deep-resounding knell, they spread 
The dreadful news, and hardly feel it more : 
Ko grain of ^visdom pays them for their wo. 

Htlf round the globe, the tears pump'd up by deat 
Are spent in wat'ring vanities of life ; 
in making foUv flourish still more fa»r. 
AVhen the sick soul, her wonted stay withdrawn, 
Reclines on earth, and sorrows in the dust. 
Instead of learning there her true support, 
Though there thrown down her true support tolear„ 
Without Heav'n's aid, impatient to be blest, 
She crawls to the next shrub or bramble vile. 
Though from the stately cedar's arms she fell; 
With stale foresworn embraces chngs anew, 
'J'he strani^er weds, and blossoms, as before, 
In all the fruitless fopperies of life ; 
Presents her weed, well-fancied at the ball, 
A.nd raffles for the death's head on the ring. 
So wept Aurelia, till the destm d youth 
Stept in with his receipt for making smiles, 
And blanching sables into bridal bloom. 
So wept Lorenzo fair Clarissa's fate. 
Who gave that angel boy on whom he doats ; 
And died to give him, orphan'd in his birth. 
TS'ot such, Narcissa, ray distress for thee; 
I'll make an altar of thy sacred tomb. 
To sacrifice to Wisdom.-W hat wast thou 
" Youn-^ gay, and fortunate !" Each yields a them 
I'll dwell on each, to shun thought more severe; 
fHeav'n knows I labour with severer still .) 
l-ll dwell on each, and quite exhaust thy death. 
A soul without reflection, like a pile 
W ithout inhabitant, to ruin runs. , 

And, first, thy youth : what says it to grej hairs . 
Narcissa, I'm become thy pupil now.— 
Flarlv, bright, transient, chaste, as morning dew, 
>-he sparkled, was exhal'd, and went to heav n. 
Time on his head has snow'd.-yet still 'tis borne 



THE RELAPSE. -^ 

Aloft, nor thinks but on another's ^rav^ 

wffho '"■"','* ^^<^« sets down for virtSe £• 
Thnf loufh '.^f.°f yi'y ^'''^■^tising youth '' 

£Mps^^;^2-i'-.ait, 

Y' Liidi iiie s loan time npen'd into ri«hf 
Shea, ,'':??'" 't ','"=!> 're dead already ; 

^f3Sera"ii^'£;i-siSin5,„.e„ 

More life, more wealth, more trash of eV'ry kind 
And wherefore mad for more, when relihfai « ' 

|K,7,:Ea%?r,„tSfE;£: 

rnat wish IS praise and promise ;' it applauds 



74 THE COx^IPLAINT. ffigM'r. 

Past life, and promises our future bliss. 
What weakness see not children in their sirei ! 
Grand climacterical absurdities 
tJrey-hair'd authority, to faults of youth 
How shocking ! it makes folly thrice a fool : 
And our lirst childhood might our last despise. 
Peace and esteem is all that age can hope : 
Nothing but Wisdom gives the first ! the last 
Nothing but the repute of being wise. 
I-'oUy bars both : our age is quite undone. 

What folly can be ranker ! Like our shadows, 
Our wishes "lengthen as onr sun declines. 
No wish should loiter, then, this side the grave. 
Our hearts should leave the world before the knell 
Calls for our carcasses to mend the soil. 
Knough to live in tenipejt, die in port; 
Age should Hy concourse, cover in retreat 
J)efects of judgment, and the will subdue ; 
Vv'alk thoughtful on the silent solemn shore 
Of that vast ocean, it must sail so soon, 
And put good works on board, and wait the wind 
That siiortly blows us into worlds unknown : 
If unconsiderVi, too, a dreadful scene ! 

AU siiDuld be prophets to themselves : foresee 
Their future fate : tiieir future fate foretaste : 
This art would waste the bitterness of death. 
The thought of death alone the fear destroys : 
A disiiftection to that precious thought 
Is more than midnight darkness on the soul, 
Which sleeps beneath it on a precipice, 
Puff'd otVby the lirst blast, and lost forever. 

Dost ask, I>orenzo, why so warmly prcss'd 
Ily repetion haramer'd on thuie ear, 
The thought of death l That thought is the machine. 
The grand machine, that heaves us from the dust, 
.\nd rears us into men ! That thought ply'd hom-e, 
Will soon reduce the ghastly precipice 
O'ertianging hell, will soften the descent, 
And gently slope our passage to the grave. 
How warmly to be wish'd ! what heart of fiesh 
Would triUe with tremendous? dare extremes ! 
Yawn o'er the fate of infinite! what hand, 
.lieyond the blackest brand of censure bold, 
(To speak a language too well known to thee) 
Would at a moment give its all to chance, 
And stamp the die for an eternity? 

Aid me, Narcissa ! aid me to keep pace 
With DestiHv, and ere her scissors cut 



THE RELAPSE. -j 

My thread of life, to break their tougher thread 
Of moral death, that ties me to the ivorld. 
Sting thou my slumb'ring reason to sen-d forth 
A thought of observation on the foe ; 
To sally, and survey the rapid march 
Of his ten thousand messengers to man ; 
Who, Jehu-like, behiud him turns them all. 
All accident apai-t, by Nature sign'd 
ftly warrant is gone out, though dormant yet ; 
Perhaps behind one moment lurks my fate. 

Must I then forward only look for death ' 
joackTfard I turn mine eye and find him there. 
Man is a self-survivor ev'ry year. 
Man, like a stream, is in perpetual flow. 
Death's a destroyer of quotidian prey : 
My youth, my noon-tide, his ; my yesterday ; 
Ihe bold invader shares the present hour. 
Each moment on the former shuts the grave. 
While man is growing, life is in decrease, 
And cradles rock us nearer to the tomb. 
Our birth is nothing but our death be-' un. 
As tapers waste that instant they take fire 
«r?- r^ ^^^^ ^^^'■' ^^st that should come to pass, 
Which comes to pass each moment of our lives ' 
If fear we must, let that death turn us pale 
Which murders strength and ardour; what remains 
fchouid rather call on Death, than dread his call. 
Ye partners of my fault, and my decline ! 
Tlioughtless of death but when your neiahlour's knell 
(x.ude visitant) knocks hard at your dulfsease 
And with Its thunder scarce obtains your ear ! 
iie death your theme in ev'ry place and hour: 
i\o longer want, ye monumental Sires 
A brother tom.b to tell you, you sinll die 
rhat death you dread, (so great is Nature's skill ' 
Know you shall court before you shall enjoy 

But you arelearn'd; in volumes deep you sit 
In wisdom shallow. Pompous ignorance ! 
Would you be still more learned than the learn'd • 
i.earn well to know how much need not be known 
And what that knowledge which impairs yoursen^p 
Our needful knowledge, like our needfid food, 
L nhedg'd, lies open in life's common field. 
And bids all welcome to the vital feast. 
You scorn what lies before you in tlie pa^^e 
Of nature and experience, moral truth ! '^ 
Of indispensable, eternal fruit! 
Fruit, on which oiortals feeding, turn to "-oris 



75 THE COMrLAlNT. iVight K I 

And dive in science for distinguish'd names, 
Dishonest fomentation of your pride, 
Sinking in virtue as you rise in fame. 
Your learning, like the lunar beam, affords 
Light, but not heat ; it leaves you undevout, 
Frozen at heart, wiiile speculation shines. 
Awake, ye curious indagators ; fond 
Of kno%ving all, but what avails you known. 
If you v.ould learn Death's character, attend. 
All casts of conduct, all degrees of health, 
All dyes of fortune, and all dates of age, 
Together shook in his impartial urn, 
Come forth at random ; or, if choice is made , 
The rlioice is quite sarcastic, and insults 
All bold conjecture and fond hopes of man. 
What countless multitudes not only leave, 
But deeply disappoint us, by their deaths ! 
Though gre^it our sorrow, greater our surprise. 

Like olher tyrants. Death delights to smite, 
Whatsmitten, most proclaims the pride of pow'r, 
And arbitrary nod. His joy supreme, 
To bid the wretch survive the fortunate ; 
The feeble wrap th' athletic in his shroud ; 
And weeping fathers build their cliildren's tombs : 
Me thine, Narcissa !— What though short thy date ' 
A'^irtue, not rolling suns, the mind matures. 
That life is long whicl; answers life's great end. 
The time that bears no fruit deserves no name. 
The man of wisdom is the man of years. 
In lioary youth 3Iethusalems may die ; 
O how misdated on their ilatt'ring tombs ! 

Narcissa's youth has lectured me thus far : 
And can her gayety give counsel too'!' 
That, like tlie JewXs fanf d oracle of gems, 
Sparkles instruction ; sucii as throws new light. 
And opens more the character of Death, 
111 known to thee, Loreuzo, this thy vaunt ! 
" Give Dealli his-due, the wretched and the old; 
" E'en let him sweep his rubbish to the grave ; 
*' Let him not violate kind Nature's laws, 
" But own man born to live is well as die. 
Wretched and old thou giv'st him : young and gay 
He takes ; and plunder is a tyrant's joy. 
What if I pi o ve, " The farthest from the fear 
" Are often nearest to tlie stroke of fate ?" 

All more than common, menaces an end. 
A blaze betokens brevity of life, 
As if bright embers sfeiould emit a flame, 



THE RELAPSE. 77 

Glad spirits sparkled from Narcissa's eye, 

And made youth younger, and taught life to live, 

As Nature's opposites wage endless war 

For this oiience, as trea-cn to the deep 

Inviolable stupor of his reign, 

Where lust and turbulent ambition sleep. 

Death took swift vengeance. As he life detests, 

More life is still more odious : and reduc'd 

By conquest aggrandizes more his pow'r. 

But wherefore aggrandiz'd ? by Heav'n's decree 

To plant the soul on her eternal guard, 

In awful expectation of our end. 

Thus runs Death's dread commission; "Strike, butsc. 

" As most alarms the living by the dead." 

Hence stratagem delights him, and surprise, 

And cruel sport with man's securities. 

Not simple conquest, triumph in his aim ; 

And where least fear'd, there conquest triumphs most. 

This proves my bold assertion not too bold. 

What are his arts to lay our fears asleep 1 
Tiberian arts his purposes wrap up 
In deep Dissimulation's darkest night. 
Like princes unconfess'd in foreign courts, 
Who travel under cover. Death assumes 
The name and look of life, and dwells among us ; 
He takes all shapes that serve his black designs ; 
Though master of awider empire far 
Than that o'er which the Roman Eagle flew. 
Like Nero, he's a fiddler, charioteer ; 
Or drives his phaeton in female guise ; 
Q.mte unsuspected, till the wheel beneath 
His disarray'd oblation he devours. 

He mo3t effects the forms least like himselfj 
His slender self: hence burly corpulence 
Is his familiar wear, and sleek disguise. 
Behind the rosy blonm he loves to lurk, 
Or ambush in a smile ; or, wanton, dive 
In dimples deep : Love's eddies, which draw ia 
Unwary hearts, and sink them in despair. 
Such on Narcissa's couch heloiter'd long 
Unknown, and when detected, still was seen 
To smile ; such peace has Innocence in death ! 

Most happy they '■ whom least his arts deceive. 
One eye on death, and one full (ix'd on heav'n. 
Becomes a mortal and immortal man. 
Long on his wiles a piqu'd and jealous spy, 
I've seen, or dream'd 1 saw, the tyrant dress, 
Lay by hie Uorrors, acd put wa his siaiJes. 



>e THE COMPLAINT. Mghl J^. 

Say, muse, for thou remember'st, call it back. 
And show Lorenzo the surprising scene; 
If 'twas a dream, his genius can explain. 

'Twas in a circle of the gay I stood : 
Death would have enter'd ; Nature push'd him back 
vSupported by a doctor of renown, 
His point he gain'd; then artfully dismiss'd 
The sage; for Death design'd to be conceal'd. 
He gave an old vivacious usurer 
His meagre aspect, and his naked bones; 
In gratitude for plumping up his prey, 
A pamper'd spendthrift, whose fantastic air, 
Well-fashion'd figure, andcockaded brow. 
He took in change . and underneath the pride 
Of costly linen tuck'd his filthy shroud. 
His crooked bow he straighten'd to a cane, 
And hid his deadly shafts in Myra's eye. 
The dreadful masquerader, thus equipp'd, 
Outsallies on adventures. Ask you where? 
Where is he not ? For his peculiar haunts 
lietthissurtice ; sure as night follows day. 
Death treads in pleasure's footsteps round the world, 
AVhen Pleasure treads the paths which Reason shuns 
When against Reason Riot shuts the door. 
And Gayety supplies the place of Sense, 
Then foremost, at the banquet and the ball, 
Death leads the diuice, or stamps the deadly dye; 
Nor ever fails the midnight bowl to crown, 
<Jayly carousing to his gay compeers. 
Inly he laughs to see them laugh at him. 
As absent far; and when the revel burns. 
When Fear is hanish'd, and triumphant Thought/ 
(."ailing for all the joys l)eneath the moon. 
Against hini turns the key, and bids him sup 
With their progenitors— he drops his mask, 
Frowns full at all; they start, despair, expire. 

Scarce with moresiiddcn terror and surprise 
From his black mask of nitre, touch'dby fire. 
He bursts, expands, roars, blazes, and devours. 
And is not this triumphant treachery, 
And more than simple conquest in the fiend ? 
And now, Lorenzo, dost thou wrap thy soui 
In soft security, because x;nknov.-n 
Which moment is commis.-ion'd to destroy l 
lu death'.s uncertainty thy danger lies. 
Is death uncertain ? therefore thou be fix'd. 
Fix'd as a ccntinel, all eye, all ear, 
jSJl expectation of tlie cojuiing foe. 



THE RELAPSE. 79 

Rouse, stand inarms, nor lean against thy spear, 
Lest slumber steal one moment o'er thy soul, 
And Fate surprise thee nodding Watch, be strong : 
Thus give each day the merit and renown 
Of dying well, though doom'd but once to die. 
Nor let life's period, hidden (as from most) 
Hide, too, from tliee the precious use of life. 

Early, not sudden, was Narcissa's fate ; 
Soon, net surprising, Death his visit paid : 
Her thought went forth to meet him on his way, 
Nor Gayety forgot it was to die. 
Though fortune too (our third and final theme) 
As an accomplice, play'd her gaudy plumes, 
And ev'ry glitt'ring gewgaw, on her sight. 
To dazzle and debauch it from its mark. 
Death's dreadful advent is the mark of man, 
And every thought that misses it is blind. 
Fortune, with Youth and Gayety conspir'd 
To weave a triple wreath of happiness 
(If happiness on earth) to crown her brow: 
And could Death charge through such a shining shield ? 
That shining shield invites the tyrant's spear, 
As if to damp our elevated aims. 
And strongly preach humility toman. 
O how portentous is prosperity ! 
How, comet-like, it threatens while it shines; 
Few years but yield us proof of Death's ambition, 
To cull his victims from the fairest fold, 
And sheath his shafts in all the pride of life. 
When flooded with abundance, purpled o'er 
With recent honours, bloom'd with ev'ry bliss, 
Set up in ostentation, made the gaze, 
The gaudy centre of the public eye; 
When Fortune, thus, has toss'd her child in air, 
Snatch'd from the covert of an humble state. 
How often have I seen him dropt at once. 
Our morning's envy ! and our evening's sigh ! 
As if her bounties were the signal giv'n, 
The flow'ry wreath, to mark the sacrifice, 
And call death's arrows on the destin'd prey. 

High fortune seems in cruel league with Fate 
Ask you for what ? To give his war on man 
The deeper dread, and more illustrious spoil; 
Thus to keep daring mortals more in awe. 
And burns Lorenzo still for the sublime 
Of life ! to hang his airy nest on high. 
On the slight timber of the topmost bough, 
Hocfe'd at eacb breeze, and BQenacing a fall? 



80 THE COMPLAINT. Ifighi V, 

(iranting grim death at equal distance there, 
Yet peace begins just -where ambition ends. 
What makes man wretched? happiness denied] 
Ijorenzo ! no, 'tis happiness disdain'd. 
She comes too meanly dress'd to win our smiles, 
And calls herself Content, a homely name ; 
Our flame is transport, and content our scorn. 
Ambition turns, and shuts the door against her, 
And weds a toil, a tempest in her stead ; 
A tempest to Avarm transport near of kin. 
Unknowing -what our mortal state admits. 
Life's modest joys we ruin while we raise, 
An'3 all our ecstasies are wounds to peace; 
Peace, the full portion of mankind l-elow. 

And since thy peace is dear, amliitious Youth ! 
Of fortune fond ! as thoughtless of thy fate ! 
As late 1 drew DeaUi's picture, to stir up 
Thy whole-iome fears, now, drawn in contrast, see 
Gay Fortune's, thy vain hopes to reprimand. 
See, high in air the sportive goddess hangs. 
Unlocks her casket, spreads her glitt'rlng ware, 
And calls the giddy winds to puif abroad 
Her random bounties o'er the gaping throng. 
All rush rapacious; friends o'er trodden friends. 
Sons o'er their fathers, subjects o'er tlieir kings, 
Priests o'er their gods, and lovers o'er their fair, 
(Still more ador'd) to snatcli the golden show'r. 

Gold glitters most where virtue shines no more, 
As stars from aijsentsuns have leave to shine. 
O what a precious pack of votaries, % 

Unkennell'd from the prisons and the stews, 
Pour in, all op'ning in their idol's praise ! 
All, ardent, eye each waiture of her hand. 
And, wide-expanding their voracious jaws. 
Morsel on morsel swallow doAvn unchew'd, 
Untasted, through mad appetite for more; 
tiorg'd to the throat, yet lean and rav'nous still ; 
Sagacious all to t' ace the smallest game, 
And bold to seize the greatest. If (clest chance !) " 
Court-zephyrs sweetly breathe, they launch, they fly' 
O'er just, o'er sacred, all-forbidden ground, 
Druiik with the burning scent of place or pow'r, 
Staunch to the foot ol" Lucre till they die. 

Or if for men you take them, as I mark 
Their manners, thou their various fates survey. 
With aim nriismeasur'd, and impetuous speed. 
Some, darting, strike their ardent wish far off, 
Through fury to possess it : some succeed, 



THE RELAPSE. 

But stumble and let fall the taken prize. 
From some, by sudden blasts 'tis whirl'd away. 
And lodg'd in bosoms that ne'er dream'd of gain 
To some it sticks so close, that, when torn off, 
Torn is the man, and mortal is the wound. 
Some, o'er-enamour'd of their bags, run mad, 
Groan under s^old, yet weep for want of bread. 
Together some (unhappy rivals !) seize. 
And rend abundance into poverty ; 
Loud croaks the ra^en of the law, and smiles; 
Smiles too the goddess ; but smiles most at those 
(Just victims of exorbitant desire !) 
Who perish at their own request, and whelm'd 
Beneath her load of lavish grants, expire. 
Fortune is famous for her numbers slain; 
The number small which happiness can bear. 
Though various for a while their fates, at last 
One curse involves them all; at death's approach 
All read their riches backward into loss. 
And mourn, in just proportion to their store. 

And Death's approach (if orthodox my song) 
Is hasten'd by the lure of Fortune's smiles. 
And art thou still a glutton of bright gold ? 
And art thou still rapacious of thy ruin? 
Death loves a shining mark, a signal blow ; 
A blow which, while it executes, alarms, 
And startles thousands with a single fall. 
As when some stately growth of oak, or pine, 
"Which nods aloft, and proudly spreads her shade, 
The sun's defiance, and the flock's defence, 
By the strong strokes of lab'ring hinds subdu'd, 
Loud groans her last, and, rushing from her height 
In cumb'rous ruin thunders to the ground; 
The conscious forest trembles at the shock. 
And hill, and stream, and distant dale resound. 

These high-aim'd darts of death, and these alone, 
Should I collect, my quiver would be full; 
A quiver which, suspended in mid air. 
Or near heaven's archer, in the zodiac, hung, 
(So could it be) should draw the public eye, 
The gaze and contemplation of mankind; 
A constellation awful, yet benign, 
To guide the gay through life's tempestuous wave, 
Nor suffer them to strike the common rock; 
" From greater danger to grow more secure, 
" And, wrapt in happiness, forget their fate." 

Lysander, happy past the common lot, 
Was warn'd of danger, but too gay to fear. 



82 THE COMPLAINT. Hight V. 

He woo'd the fair Aspasia : she was kind; 

In j'outh, form, fortune, fame, they both ivere bless'd : 

All who knew envied ; yet in envy lov'd ; 

Can Fancy form more finish'd happiness? 

Fix'd was the nuptial hour. Her stately dome 

Rose on the sounding lieach. The glitt'ring spires 

Float in the wave, and break against the shore : 

So break those glitt'ring shadows, human joys. 

The faithless morning smil'd : he takes his leave 

To re-embrace, in ecstasies, at eve. 

The rising storm forbids. The news arrives ; 

Untold she saw it in her servant's eye. 

She felt it seen (her heart was apt to feel) 

And drown'd, without the furious ocean's aid, 

In suffocating sorrows .shares his tomb. 

j^ow round the sumptuous bridal monument 

The guilty billows innocently roar, 

And the rough sailor passing, drops a tear. 

A tear? — can tears suJfice? — but not for me. 

How vain our efforts ! and our arts how vain ! 

The distant train oi'thouglit I took, to shun, 

Has thrown me on my fate.— These died together; 

Happy in ruin ! undivorc'd by death ! 

Or ne'er to meet, or ne'er to part, is peace. — 

Narcissa, Pity bleeds at thought of thee; 

Yet thou wast only near me, not myself. 

Survive myself? — that cures all other wo, 

Narcissa lives ; Philander is forgot. 

O the soft commerce ! O the tender ties. 

Close twisted with the fibres of the heart ! 

Which broken, break them, and drain olf the soul 

Of human joy, and make it pain to live. — 

And is it then to live ? when such friends part, 

'Tis the survivor dies.— My heart! no more. 



PREFACE 

TO 

THE INFIDEL RECLAIMED, 



Few ages have been deeper in dispute about religion 
than this. The dispute about religion, and the practice 
of it, seldom go together. The shorter therefore the 
dispute, the better. I think it may be reduced to this 
single question. Is Man immortal, or, Is he not ? If he is 
not, all our disputes are mere amusements, or trials of 
skill. In this case, truth, reason, religion, which gave 
our discourses such pomp and solemnity, are (as will be 
shown) mere empty sounds, without any meaning in 
them. But if man is immortal, it will behove him to 
be very serious about eternal consequences ; or, ia 
other words, to be truly religious. And this great 
fundamental truth, unestablished, or unawakened in 
the minds of men, is, I conceive, the real source and 
support of all our infidelity; how remote soever the 
particular objections advanced may seem to be from 
it. 

{Sensible appearances affect most men much more 
than abstract reasonings ; and we daily see bodies 
drop around us, but the soul is invisible. The power 
•which inelination has over the judgment, is greater 
tiian can be well conceived by those that have not had 
an experience of it; and of what numbers is it the sad 
interest, that souls should not survive ! The Heathen 
world confessed, that they rather hoped, than firmly 
believed Immortality ! and how many Heathens have 
we still among us ! The sacred page assures us, that 
life and immortality are brought to light by the 



U PREFACE. 

gospel : But by how many is the gospel rejected, or 
overlooked 1 From these considerations, and from my 
being, accidentally, privy to the sentiments of some 
particular persons, I have been long persuaded, that 
most, if not all our infidels (whatever name they take, 
and whatever scheme for argument's sake, and to keep 
themselves in countenance they patronise) are sup- 
ported in their deplorable error, by some doubt of 
their immortality, at the bottom. And I am satisfied, 
that men once thoroughly convinced of their immor- 
tality, are not far from being Christians. For it is hard 
to conceive, that a man fully conscious eternal pain or 
happiness will certainly be his lot, should not earnestly 
and impartially inquire after the sure t means of es- 
caping the one, and securing the other. And of such 
an earnest and impartial inquiry, I well know the 
consequence. 

Here, therefore, in proof of this most fundamental 
truth, some plain arguments are offered; arguments 
derived from principles which Infidels admit in com- 
mon with Believers ; arguments which appear to me 
altogether irresistible ; and such as, J am ■satisfied, will 
have great weight with all who give themselves the 
small trouble of looking seriously into their own bo- 
soms, and of observing, with any tolerable degree of 
attention, what daily passes round about them in the 
world. If some arguments shall here occur, which 
others have declined, they are submitted, with all 
deference, to belter judgments m this, of all points 
the most important. For as to the being of a GOD, 
that is no longer disputed; but it is undisputed for 
this reason only, viz. Because, where the least pre- 
tence to reason is admitted, it must for ever be dis- 
putable. Ana of consequence, no man can be betrayed 
into a dispute of that nature by vanity, which has a 
principal share in animating our modera combatants 
agaiast other articles of our lielief. 



IHE 

COMPLAINT. 

NIGHT VI. 
THE INFIDEL RECLAIMED. 

IN TWO PARTS. 

Containing 
The Nature, Proof, and Importance of Immorialiiy^ 



PART 1. 

Where, among other Things, Glory and Riches arc pai 
ticularly considered. 

INSCRIBED TO THE RIGHT HON. HENRY PELHAM, 

She* (for I know not yet her name in heaven) 
Not early, like Narcissa, left the scene. 
Nor sudden, lii^e Philander. What avail 1 
This seeming mitigation but inflames : 
This fancied med'cine heightens the disease. 
The longer known, the closer still she grew, 
And gradual parting is a gradual death. 
'Tis the grim tyrant's engine which extorts, 
By tardy pressure's still increasing weight. 
From hardest hearts confession of distress. 

O the long dark approach, through years of paiu, 
Death's gallery ! (might 1 dare to call it so) 
With dismal doubt and sable terror hung. 
Sick Hope's pale lamp its only glimm'ring ray : 
There, Fate my melancholy walk ordain'd, 

* Referring to Night the Fifth. 



85 THE COMPLAINT. mght VL 

Forbid Self-love itself to flatter there- 
How oft I gaz'd prophetically sad ! 
HoTv oft I saw her dead, while yet in smiles ! 
In smiles she sunk her grief to lessen mine : 
She spoke me comfort, and increas'd my pain. 
Like pow'rful armies, trenching at a town, 
By slow and silent, but resistless, sap. 
In his pale progress gently gaining ground, 
Death urg'd his deadly siege; in spite of art, 
Of all the balmy blessings Nature lends 
To succour frail humanity. Ye Stars ! 
(Xot now first made familiar to my sight) 
And thou, O moon ! hear witness : many a night 
He tore the pillow from beneath my head, 
Tied down my sore attention to the shock 
By ceaseless depredations on a life 
j/earer than that he left me. Dreadful post 
Of observation ! darker every hour! 
IjGss dread the day that drove me to the brink, 
And pointed out eternity below, 
When my soul shudder'd at futurit)^; 
When, on a moment's point the important die 
Of life and dtath.spun doubtful, ere it fell, 
And turn'd up life, my title to more wo. 

But why more wo 1 More comfort let it be. 
Nothing is dead but that which wish'd to die ; 
iSTothing is dead but wretchedness and pain ; 
Nothing is dead but wlrat incumber'd, gall'd, 
Block'd up the pass, and barr'd from real life. 
Where dwells that wish most ardent of the wise .' 
Too dark the sun to see it : highest stars 
Too low to reach it : Death, great death alone, 
O'er stars and sun, triumphant, lands us there. 

Nor dreadful our transition, though the mind, 
An artist at creating self-alarms, 
Rich in expedients for inquietude, 
Is prone to paint it dreadful. Who can take 
Death's portrait true ? the tyrant never sat. 
Our sketch all random strokes, conjecture all; 
Close shuts the grave, nor tells one single tale. 
Death and his image rising in the brain 
Bear faint resemblance ; never are alike; 
Fearshakes the pencil ; Fancy loves excess y 
Dark Ignorance is lavish of her shades : 
And theie the formidable picture draw. 

But grant the worst, 'tis past : new prospects rise 
And drop a veil eternal o'er her tomb. 
Far other vio\?s our contemplation claim, 



THE IXFIDEL RECLAIMED. 

Views that o'erpay the rigours of our ]ifp ; 
V lews that suspend our agonies in death 
Wrapt in the thoijorht of immortality, 
Wrapt in the single, the trium-phant thought ! 
Long life might lapse, age uiiperceiv'd oome on 
And find the soul unsated with her theme. 
Its nature, proof, importance, fire my son^- ^ 

that my song could emulate my soul ! °' 
lake her, immortal. No !— the soul disdains 
A mark so mean ; far nobler hope inflames • 
I{ endless ages can outAveigh an hour, ' 
Let not the laurel, but the palfn, inspire. 

Thy nature. Immortality! -who knows ' 
And yet who knows it not ? It is but life 
In stronger thread of brighter colour spun 
And spun for ever; dipt by cruel Fate 
Jn btygian dye, how black, how brittle, here ' 
How short our correspondence with the sun : 
And while it lasts inglorious ! Our best deeds- 
How wanting in their weight ! Our highest mys 
^mall cordials to support us in our pain, 
And give us strength to suffer. But how great 
ro mingle int'rests, converse, amities, 
With all the sons of reason, scatter'd wide 
Through habitable space, wherever born, 
Howe'er eodow'd ! To live free citizens 

01 universal nature ! To lay hold. 

By more than feeble faith, on the Pupreme ' 

a o call heaven's rich unfathomable mines 

(Mines which support archangels in their state^ 

Our own ! to rise in science as in bliss, 

Initiate in the secrets of the skies ! 

To read creation ; read its mighty plan 

In the bare bosom of the Deity ! 

The plan and execution to collate ! 

To see, before each glance of piercing thought 

All cloud, all shadow, blown remote, and leave' 

Ao mystery— but that of love divine. 

Which lifts us on the seraph's flaming iving 

From earth's Aceldama, this field of blood, 

Of inward anguish, and of outward ill, 

From darkness and from dust, to such ascene ' 

Love's element ! true joy's illustrious home ! 

VTom earth's sad contrast (now deplor'd) more fei 

What exquisite vicissitude of fate ! 

bless'd absolution of our blackest hour! 

, Lorenzo, these are thoughts that make mao Ma 

The vise lilujcine, aggrandize the ereat. 



S3 THE COMPLAINT. mghi VI. 

How great (while yet, we tread the kindred clod, 

And ev'ry moment fear to sink beneath 

Tlie clod we tread, soon trodden by our sons) 

How great, in the wild whirl of time's pursuits. 

To stop and pause; involv'd in high presage 

Through the long visto of a thousand years, 

To stand contemplating our distant selves, 

As in a magnifying mirror seen, 

Enlarg'd, ennobled, elevate, divine ! 

To prophesy our own futurities ! 

To gaze in thought on what all thought transcends I 

To talk, with fellow-candidates, of joys 

As far beyond conception as desert, 

Ourselves th' astonish'd talkers and the tale ! 

Lorenzo, swells thy bosom at the thought? 
The swell becomes thee : 'tis an honest pride. 
Revere thyself, — and yet thyself despise. 
His nature no man can o'errate, and none 
Can underrate his merit. Take good heed, 
Nor there be modest where tliou shouldst be proud : 
That almost universal error shun. 
How .just our (iride, when we behold those heights ! 
Not those Ambition paints in air, but those 
Reason points out, and ardent Virtue gains, 
And angels emulate. Our pride how just ! 
When mount we! when these shackles cast ? when quit' 
This cell of the creation ? this small nest, 
Stuck in a corner of the universe. 
Wrapt up in fleecy cloud and fine-spun air? 
Fine-spun to sense, but gross and feculent 
To souls celestial ; souls ordain'd to breathe 
Ambrosial gales, and drink a purer sky ; 
Greatly triumphant on Time's farther shore. 
Where' virtue reigns, enrich'd with full arrears. 
While Pomp imperial begs an alms of Peace. 

In empire high, or in proud science deep. 
Ye born of Earth, on what can you confer. 
With half the dignity, with half the gain, 
The gust, the glow of rational delight, 
As on this theme, which angels praise and share? 
Man's fates and favours are a tlieme in heaven. 

What wretched repetition cloys us here? 
What periodic potions for the sick! 
Djstemper'd bodies ! and distemper'd minds I 
In an eternity what scenes shall strike ! 
Adventures thicken ! novelties surprise ! 
What webs of wonder shall unravel there ! 
Wbut full day pour on all the paths of heaven, 



THE INFIDEL RECLAIMED. 8? 

And light th' Almighty's footsteps in the deep ! 
How shall the Idessed day of our discharge 
Lnvrind, at once, the labyrinths of Fate, 
And straighten its inextricable maze ! 

1 1 inextinguishable thirst in man 
To know how rich, how full, our banquet there ! 
i here, not the moral world alone umolds • 
The world material, l^.tely seen in shades', 
An.; m those shades by fragments only seen, 
And seen those fragments by the lab'ring eye, 
Unbroken, then, illustrious and entire, 
Its ample sphere, its universal frame, 
In full dimensions, swells to the survey, 
And enters, at one glance, the ravish'd sight. 
From some superior point (where, who can tell ' 
Suffice it, 'tis a point VN'here gods reside) 
How shall the stranger, man's illumin'd eye. 
In the vast ocean of unbounded space. 
Behold an infinite of floating -.worlds 
Divide the crystal waves of ether pure, 
,In endless voyage, witiiout port .' The least 
iOf these disseminated orbs how great ! 
Sreat as they are, what numbers these surpas"! 
Huge as leviatlian to that small race. 
Those twinkling multitudes of little life. 
He swallows unperceiv'd ! Stupendous these ! 
ifet what are these stupendous to the whole? 
^s particles, as atoms ill perceiv'd; 
is circulating globules in our veins ; 
5^0 vast the plan. Fecundity divine ! 
''xub'rant source .' perhaps I wrong thee still. 

If admiration is a source of joy, 
Vhat transport hence ! yet this the least in heavea. 
Vhat this to that illustrious robe he wears, 
Vho toss'd this mass of Avonders from his band 
k. specimen, an earnest of his pow'r ? 
Tis to that glory, whence all glory flows, 
Ls the mead's meanest tlow'ret to the sun 
Vhich gave it birth. But what this sun of heaven ■ 
i'his bliss supreme of the supremely bless'd l 
)eath, only death, the question tan resolve. 
iy death cheap bought th' ideas ol our joy; 
'he uare ideas ! solid happiness 
o distant from its shadow chas'd below. 

And chase we still the phantom through the fire, 
'er bog, and brake, and precipice, till death ! 
.nd toil we still for sublunary pay? 
'efy tke daugers of the field aud flood, 



ja THE COMPLAINT. NigU VI 

Or, spider-iike, spin out our precious all, 
Our more than vitals spin (if no regard 
To great futurity) in curious webs 
Of subtle thought and exquisite design, 
(Fine network of the brain !) to catch a fly ! 
The momentary buz of vain renown! 
A name ! a mortal immortality ! 

Or (meaner still) instead of grasping air. 
For sordid lucre plunge we in the mire ? 
Drudge, sweat, through ev'ry sliame, for ev'ry gaiB, 
For vile contaminating trash; throw up 
Our hope in heaven, our dignity with man, 
j^nrt deify the dirt matur'd to gold? 
Ambition, Av'rioe, the two daemons these 
Which goad through every slough our human herd, 
Hard-travell'd from the cradle to the grave. , 

How low the wretches stoop ! how steep they •climb 
These demons l)urn mankind, but most possess 
Lorenzo's bosom, and turn out the skies. 

Is it in time to hide eternity ? 
And why not in an atom on the shore 
To cover ocean'! or a mote the sun ? 
Glory and wealth ! have they this blinding power 1 
What if to them 1 prove Lorenzo blind ! 
Would it surprise thee ? Be thou then surpris'd; 
Thou neither know'st : their nature learn from me. 

Mark well, as foreign as these subjects seem. 
What close connection ties them to my theme. 
First, what is true ambition ? The pursuit 
Of "-lory nothing less than man can share. 
W^re they as vain as gaudy-minded man, 
A.S flatulent with fumes of self-applause, 
T>^eir arts and conquests animals might boast, 
And claim their laurel crowns as well as we, 
But not celestial. Here we stand alone ; 
As in our form, distinct, pre-emment; 
If prone in thought, our stature is our shame ; 
And man should blush, his forehead meets the skies. 
The visible and present are for brutes, 
A slender portion ! and a narrow bound! 
These, Reason, with an energy divme, 
O'erleaps, and claims the future and unseen; 
The vast unseen ! the future fathomless . , ^ 
V/hen the great soul buoys up to this high pom., 
Leaving gross Nature's sediments below, _ 
Then, and then only, Adam's oiispnng quits 
The sage and hero of the fields and ^oo.s. 



THE INFIDEL RECLAIMED. 

Asserts his rank, and rises into man 
This IS ambition : this is human fire 

Can parts, or place (two bold pretenders ') mate 
Lorenzo great, and pluck him from the th^onJ^ 

Gejiius and art, ambition's boasted winf's ° ' 
Our boast but ill deserve. A feeble aid ''' ' 
Uaenalian engin'ry ! If these alone 
Assist our flight, fame's flight is glory's fall 
deart-merit wanting, mount we ne'er so hi^h 
3ur height IS but the gibbet of our name " 
9i celebrated wretch when I behold, 
iVhen I behold a geniuy bright, and base, 
Jl tow nng talents, and terrestrial aims ; 
jTethinks I see, as thrown from her hi^h sphere 
riie glorious fragments of a soul immortal, ' 

Z r^^.^i^'^ °^'^''^' ^"^^ glitt'ring in the dust 
'truck at the splendid, melancholy sip-ht 

Lt once compassion soft, and envy rTse-^ 

lut wherefore envy ? Talents angel-bri»-ht 
f wantmg worth, are shining instruments 
n false ambition's hand, to finish faults 
llustnous, and give infamy renown. 
Great ill is an achievement of great powers • 
lain sense but rarely leads us far astray 
-eason the means, artections choose our end- 
leans have no merit, if our end amiss. 
^ wrong our hearts, our heads are right in vain • 
'^hat is a Pelham's head to Pelhnm's heart ! 
earts are proprietors of all applause, 
ight ends and means make wisdom : Worldly wise 
I but halt-witted, at its highest praise ' 

Let genius then despair to make thee great • 
or flatter station. What is station high ' ' 
'i? a proud mendicant; it boasts, and begs • 
begs an alms of liomage from the throng, ' 
Ind oft the throng denies its charity, 
onarchs, and ministers, are awful names ; 
hoever wear them, challenge our devoir 
?ligion, public order, l)oth exact 
eternal homage, and a supple kuoe, 
) beic<;s pompously set up, to serve 
le meanest slave; all more is merit's due, 
ir sacred and inviolable right; 
)r ever paid the monarch, but the man. 
;r hearts ne'er bow but to superior worth; 
«• ever fail of their allegiance there, 
ols, indeed, drop the man in their accotmt, 
la vote the laantle into majeit^. 



•92 THE COMPLAINT. Ifight F- 

Let the small savage boast his silver fur; 

His royal robe untorrow'd, and unbought, 

His own, descending fairly from his sires. 

Shall man be proud to wear his livery, 

And souls in ermine scorn a soul v?ithout? 

Can place or lessen us, or aggrandize 1 

Figmies are pigmies still, though perch'd on Alps ; 

And pyramids are pyramids in vales. 

Each man makes his own stature, builds himself: 

Virtue alone out-builds the pyramids ; 

Her monuments shall last when Egypt's fall. 

Of these sure truths dost thou demand the cause T 
The cause is lodg'd in immortality. 
Hear, and assent. Thy bosom burns for power; 
What station charms thee ? I'll instal thee there ; 
'Tis thine. And art thou greater than before 1 
Then thou before wast something less than man. 
Has thy new post betray'd thee into pride ? 
That treach'rous pride betrays thy dignity; 
That pride defames humanity, and calls 
The being mean, which staffs or strings can raise ; 
That pride, like hooded hawks, in darkness soars, : 
From blindness bold, and tow'ring to the skies. 
'Tis born of ignorance, which knows not man ; 
An angel's second : nor his second long- ^ 

A Nero quitting his imperial throne. 
And courting glory from the tinkling string, ' 

But faintly shadows an immortal soul, 
With empire's self, to pride, or rapture fir'd. 
If nobler motives minister no cure. 

E'en vanity forbids thee to be vain. 
High worth is elevated place ; 'tis more; 

It makes the post stand candidate for thee ; 

Makes more than monarchs, makes an honest man ; 

Though no exchequer it commands, 'tis Avealth ; 

And though it wears no ribband, 'tis renown ; 

Renown, that would not quit thee, though disgrac'd 

Nor leave thee pendant on a ma.ster's smile. 

Other ambition nature interdicts : 

Nature proclaims it most absurd in man, 

Bv pointing at his origin, and end ; 

Milk and a swathe, at first his whole demand ; 

His whole domain, at last, a turf or stone ; 

To whom between, a world may seem too small. 
Souls truly great, dart forward on the wing 

Of iust ambition to the grand result, ,..,,.„ 

The curtain's fall ; there, see the buskm'd cJiJer 

Uflshod behind tWs moioentary sc«ae 5 



THE mFIDEL RECLAIMED. 

Reciuc'd to his own stature, low or hhh 
As vjce, or virtue, sinks him, or sublimes • 
And laugh at this fantastic mummerv, ' 
This antic prelude of grotesque events, 
^\ here dwarfs are often stilted, and betray 
A littleness of soul by worlds o'er-run 
And nations laid in blood. Dread sacrifice 

Thp'd^rf f P"^' ■ ''^''^' ^^^ ^"^th horror shock'd 
i he darkest pagans, otter'd to their gods 

O tiiou most christian enemy to place 'l 
Again in arms ? again provoking fate ' 
iiiat prince, and that alone, is truly great 
Who draws the sword reluctant, gladly 4eath. • 
On empire builds what empire ik? ?ut-wefgh ' 
Ana makes his throne a scaffold to the skief ' 
n,, ^ this so rare ? because forgot of all 
1 lie day of death ; that venerable day, 
\\ h!ch sits as judge ; that day which shall pronounce 
On all our days, absolve them or condemi? 
r.orenzo, never shut thy thought against it"- 
Be levees ne'er so full, afford it roSm 
And give it audience in the cabinet ' 
I J^nV'",',''."/' consulted (flatteries apart) 
WM tell thee fair, ,f thou art great or mean 

f o doat on aught may leave us, or be left - 
l-< that ambition ? Then let flames descend ' 
^oint to the centre their inverted spires 
4.nd learn humiliation from a soul ' 

A'hich boasts her lineage from celestial fire 
^et these are tiiey the world pronounces wise ; 

he world whicli cancels nature's right and wron^- 
Ind casts new wisdom : E'en the grave manlendl 
iis solemn face to countenance the coin 
Visdom for parts is madness for the whole 
bis stamps the paradoK, and gives us leave 
o call the vf isest weak, the richest poor 
iie most ambitious, unambitious, mean- 
n triumph mean ; and abject on a tiirone' 
.othmg can make it less than mad in man' 
'o put forth all his ardour, all his art, ' 
.nd give his . oul her full unbounded /light, 
ut reaching him, who gave her wings to fl'v 
^hen blind ambition quite mistakes her road 
nd downward pores for that which shines above 
ubstantial happiness, and true renown 
hen, like an ideot gazing on the brook,' 
le leap at stars, and fasten in the mmi • 
tglory grasp, aod gink in iflfaipy. 



jKl THE COMPLAINT. Nigid VI 

Araliition ! pow'rful source of good and ill ! 
Thy strength in man, like length of wing in bird* ; 
When disengas'dfrom earth, with greater ease, 
And swifter tlight, transports us to the skies : 
By toys entangled, or in guilt bemir'd, 
It turns a curse ; it is our chain, and scourge, 
In this dark dungeon, where confin'd we lie, 
Close grated by the sordid bars of sense : 
AH prospect of eternity shut out ; 
And, but for execution, ne'er set free. 
With error in ambition justly charg'd, 
Find we Lorenzo wiser in his wealth 1 
What if thy rental I reform and draw 
An inventory new to set thee right 1 ^ 

Where, thy true treasure? Goldsays, ' not m me, v 
And, ' not "in me,' the Diamond. Gold is poor, 
India's insolvent ! seek it in thyself, 
Seek in thy naked self, and find it there ; 
In being so descended, form'd, endow'd ; 
Sky-born, sky-guided, sky-returning race . 
Erect, immortal, rational, divine ! ^ 
In senses which inherit earth, and heav ns ; 
Enjoy the various riches nature yields ; 
Far nobler ; give the riches they enjoy : 
Give taste to fruits, and harmony to groves : , 

Their radiant beams to gold, and gold's bright hre . 
Take in, at once, the landscape of the world 
At a small inlet, which a grain might close, 
And half create the wond'rous world they see. 
Our senses, as our reason, are divine. 
But for the magic organ's pow'rful charm. 
Earth were a rude, uncolour'd chaos still. 
Objects are but th' occasion ; ours th' exploit ; 
Ours is the cloth, the pencil and the paint. 
Which nature's admirable picture draws, 
And beautifies creation's ample dome. 
Like Milton's Eve when gazing on the lake, 
Man makes the matchless image, man admires. 
Sav then, shall man, his thoughts all sent abroad 
(Superior wonders in himself forgot) 
His a'lmiration waste on objects round. 
When heav'n makes him the soul ol all he sees ; 
Absurd ! not rare ! so great, so mean, js man. ] 

What wealth in senses such as these ! What weall 
In fancy, fir'd to form a fairer scene 
Than sense surveys ! In memory's firm record, 
Which, should it perish, could this world recall 
From the dark shadows of o'erwhelmmg years . 
In colours fresh, origieahly bright, 



THE INFIDEL RECLAIMED. ar, 

What wliJh^^'*?').' ""^ '■^POrt ^ts fate ! 

What wealth m intellect, that sov'reisn Dow'r • 
Which sense, and fancy summoAs to the bar " 
And'S^f^ ^PP'-^^-e^' «r reprehends ; ''''* 
And from, the mass those underlings ImDort 

aIT t^^-; "materials sifted and refin'7 ' 
And in truth's balance accurately weigh'd 
rlT' f'iV^"-'' ''^^"'=«' government, and law, ■ 
rtp v?ti?^''''HVf ^ the beauteous fr^me, ' 

J ne vjtals, and the grace of civil life • 
And manners (sad exceptioa !) set aside 
. nkes out, with master-hand a copy fair 
31 his Idea, whose indulgent thought 

ind hear at once, in thought extensive, hear 
h' almighty fiat, and the trumpet's sound ^' 
Jold on creation's outside wall , and v?ew 
Vhat was, and is, and more than e'er shaU be • 
;Ommandmg, with omnipotence of thought ' 
-reation's new in fancy's field to ri'e°^ ' 
ouls, that can grasp whate'er th' AlmVhtvmade 

VhJ^jfw'"'^'i^^'?' ^^'"^' impossible !^'' 
^^hat wea tn m faculties of endless growth 
a quenchless passions violent to crlve ' 
a liberty to choose, in power to reach 
.nd in duration (how thy riches rise •) 
'uration to perpetuate— boundless bliss • 
Ask you what pow'r resides in feeble man 
hat bliss to gain ? Is virtue then unknown" 
irtue,our present peace, our future prFze " 
mail's unprecanous natural estate 
nproveable at will, in virtue lies • 
s tenure sure; its income is divide 
High-built abundance, heap on heap ! for what^ 
o breed new wants and begjar us the more - ' 
hen, make a richer scrambll for thethS " 
'Z^fl^'' f^ef'lep^lse, which leaps so S 
most by miracle, is tir'd with play, ^ 
ke rubbish from disploding engines thrown 
ir magazines of hoarded trifles flv "'^°^"' 
y 01 verse; fly to foreigners, to foes ; 

ow justly .; for dependence on their stav 

Dosrcourl'/'''r' play-things : 'then o^ur d,;.^ 
uost court aoundance for the sake of peace ' ' 
arn, and h^at thy self-defe.ted scheme? ' 



9G THE COMPLAINT. Tiigkl VI. 

Riches enable to be richer still ; 
And, richer still, what mortal can resist? 
Thus wealth (a cruel task-master !) enjoins 
New toils, succeeding toils, an endless train ! _ 
And murders peace, which taught it first to shine. 
The poor are half as wretched as the rich; 
Whose proud and painful privilege it is, 
At once to bear a double load ofwo; 
To feel the stings of envy, and of want, 
Outrageous want '■ both Indies cannot cure. 

A competence is vital to content. 
Much wealth is corpulence, if not disease ; 
Sick, or incumherM, is our happiness. 
A competence is all we can enjoy. 
O be content, where heav'n can give no more '. 
Rlore, like a flash of water from a lock, 
Quickens our spirit's movement for an hour; 
But soon its force is spent, nor rise our joys 
Above our native temper's common stream. 
Hence disappointment lurks in ev'ry prize, 
As bees in llow'rs, and stings us with success. 

The rich man, who denies it, proudly feigns; 
Kor knows the wise are privy to the lie. 
Much learning shows how little mortals knoAV; 
Much wealth, how little worldlings can enjoy ; 
At best, it babies us with endless toys. 
And keeps us ciiildrentill we drop to dust. 
As monkies at a mirror stand amaz'd, 
They fail to find what they so plainly see ; 
Thus men, in shining riches, see the face 
Of happiness, nor know it is a sliade, 
But gaze, and touch, and peep, and peep again, 
And wish, and wonder it is absent still. 

How few can rescue opulence from want ! 
Who lives to Nature rarely can be poor : 
Who lives to fancy, never can be rich. 
Poor is the man in debt; the man of gold, 
In debt to Fortune, trembles at her pow'r. 
The man of reason smiles at her, and death. 
O what a patrimony this ! A being 
Of such inherent strength and majesty, 
Not worlds possess'd can raise it: worlds dcstroy'd 
Can't injure; which holds on its glorious course, 
When thine, O Nature ! ends: too bless'd to mourn 
Creation's obsequies. What treasure this ; 
The monarch is a beggar to the man. 

1!MM0RTAL! Ages past, yet nothing gone'. 
Morn without eve ! a race without a goal; 



THE INFIDEL RECLAIiHED. .97 

Unshorten'd by progression i.nSnite I 
Futurity for ever future .' Life 
Beginning still, where computation ends ! 

Tis the description of a deity ! 
^is the description of the meanest slave : 

The meanest slave dares then Lorenzo scorn '' 

i he meanest slave thy sov'reign dory shares ' 
Proud youth ! fastidious of the lower world ' ' 
Man'»lawful pride includes humility- 
Stoops to the lowest ; is too great to'find 
lufenors; all immortal! Brothers all ! 
Proprietors eternal of thy love, 
loimortal ! What can strike the sense so strorfo- 
As this the soul ? It thunders to the thou'^hf"' • 
Reason amazes ; gratitude o'erwheJms • ' 

jNo more we slumber on the brink of fate • 
Rous'd at the sound, th' exulting soul ascends, 
And breathes her native air; an air that feeds 
Ambitions high, and fans ethereal fires • 
Quick-kindles all that is divine within us, 
Nor leaves one ioitVin^ thought beneath the stars 

Has not Lorenzo's bosom caught theiiame ' 
Immortal ! Were but one immortal, how 
Would others envy ! How would thrones adore ! 
Because 'tis common, is the blessing lost ? 
How this ties up the bounteous hand of heav'n ' 
O vain, vain, vain ! all else !— Eternity ! 
A glorious, and a needful refuge, that, 
From vile imprisonment in abject views. 
'Tis immortality, 'tis that alone. 
Amid life's pains, abasements, emptiness. 
The soul can comfort, elevate, and fill. 
That only, and that amply, this performs ; 
Lifts us above life's pains, her joys above ; 
Their terror those, and the,^e their lustre lose • 
Eternity depending, covers all ; ' 

Kternity depending, all achieves; 
Sets earth at distance; cast her into shades; 
Blends her distinctions ; abrogates her powers • 
The low, the iolty, joyous, and severe, ' 

Fortune's dread frown;:, and fascinating smiles, 
Vlake one promiscuous and neglected heap, 
rhe man beneath ; If I may call him man, 
iiVhom immortality's full force inspires. 
:^fothing terrestrial touches his high thought: 
Suns shine unseen, and thunders roll unheard. 
3y minds quite conscious of their high descent, 
Cheir present province, and their future prize ; 
E 



98 THE COMPLAINT. NigM VI. 

Divinely darting upward every wish, 
Warm on tlie wins, in pilorious absence lost. 

Doul)t you this truth? Why labours your belief! 
If earth's whole orb, by some due distanc'd eye 
Were seen at once, her tow'rins Alps would sink, 
And leveil'd Atlas leave an even sphere. 
Thus earth, and all that earthly minds admire, 
Is swallow'd in Eternity's vast round. 
To that stupendous view, when souls awake, 
Folar'j:e oflate, so mountainous to man, 
Time's toys subside ; and equal all below. 

Enthusiastic, this? Then all are weak. 
Rut rank cntlnisiasts. To this godlike height 
Some souls htive soar'd ; or martyrs ne'er had bled. 
And all may do, what has by man been done. 
Who. beaten by these sublunary storms, 
Boundless, interminable joys can weigh, 
Unraptur'd, unexalted, uninflam'd? 
What slave unMest, who from to-morrow's dawn 
Expects an empire? he forgets his chain. 
And, thron'd in thought, his absent sceptre waves. 

And what a sceptre waits us ! what a throne ! 
Her own immense appointments to compute, 
Or comprehend her hiih proroiative, 
In this her dark minority, how toils. 
How vainly pants the human soul divine ; 
Too j:reat"the bounty seems for earthly joy : 
What heart hut trembles at so strange a bllsa ? 

In spite of all the truths the muse has sung, 
^'e'er to be priz'd enough ! enough revolv'd ! k 

Are there who wrap the Avorld so dose about them, 
They see no farther than the clouds ? and dance 
On heeule?s Vanity's fantastic toe, 
Till, stumbling at a straw, in their career, 
Ileadlons they plunge, where end both dance and song ' 
Are there. I>orenzo, (Is it possible ?) 
Are 'b.ereon earth (let me not call them men) 
Who lodge a soul immortal in their breasts ; 
Unconscious as the mountain of its ore; 
Or rock, of its inestimable gem ? 
When rocks shall melt, and mountains vanish, these 
Shall kiK»w their treai-ure ; treasure, then, no more. 

Are t iiere (still more amazing !) who resist 
The rising thcujrht ? who smother, in its birth, 
The glorious truth ? who struggle to be brutes ? 
Who through this bosom-barrier burst their way; 
And, with revers'd ambition, strive to sink ? 
Wholabourdovvflward through the opposing powers 



THE IXFIDEL RECLAIIMED. 'J- 

Of instinct, reason, and the world ags^inst them. 

To dismal hopes, and shelter in the shock 

Of endless Night? Night darker than the grave's! 

Who slight the proofs of immortality ! 

With horrid zeal, and execrable arts. 

Work all their engines, level their black fire?, 

To blot from man this attribute divine, 

(Than vital blood far dearer to the wise) 

lilasphemers, and rank atheists to themselves ! 

To cDntradict them, see all nature rise ; 
What object, what event, the moon beneath, 
But argues, or endears, an after-scene? 
To reason proves, or weds it to Desire ! 
All things proclaim it needful; some advance 
One precious step beyond, and prove it sure. 
A thousand arguments swarm round my pen, 
From heaven, and earth, and man. Indulge a few. 
By nature, as her common habit, worn; 
f^o pressing Providence a truth to teach, 
Which truth untaught, all other truths were vain. 

THOU ! whose all-providential eye surveys, 
Whose hand directs, whose Spirit ttlls and warms 
Creation, and holds empire far beyond 1 
Eternity's Inhabitant august ! 
Of two eternities amazing Lord ! 
One past, ere man's or angel's had !ie»un : 
Aid ! while I rescue from the fotj's assault 
Thy glorious immortality in man : 
A theme for ever, and for all, of weight, 
Of moment infinite '■ but reli^■l'd most 
By those who love thee most, Avho most adore. 

Nature, thy daughter, evcr-ciianging birth 
Of thee the great Immutable, to man 
?peaks wisdom; is his oracle supreme; 
jAnd he who most consults her, is most wise. 
jLoren,-^o, to this heavenly Dolphos liaste; 
And come back all-immortal ; all-divine ; 
Look Nature through, 'tis revolution all ; 
A. II change, no death. Day follows night ; and night 
The dying day; stars rise, and set, and rise ; 
Rarth takes th' example. See the Summer gay, 
l^'^ith her green chaplet, and ambrosial ilowers, 
IJroops into pallid Autumn : Winter grey, 
rlorrid with frost, and turbulent with storm, 
Blows Autumn and his golden fruits away; 
Then melts into the Spring : Soft Spring, with breath 
''avonian, from v/arm chambers of the south, 
{lecalls the first. All, to refiourish, fades* 



lOa THE COMPLAINT. mghi ri. 

As in a wheel, all sinks, to re-ascend, 
Emblems of Man, who passes, not expires. 

With this minute distinction, emblems just, 
Nature revolves, but man advances; both 
Eternal, that a circle, this a line; 
That crravitates, this soars. Th' aspiring soul 
Ardent and tremulous, like flame, ascends ; 
Zeal, and humility, her wings to Heaven. 
The world of matter, with its various forms, 
\ll dies into new life. Life born from Death 
J^olls the vast mass, and shall for ever roll. 
No single atom, once in being, lost, 
With change of counsel charges the Most High. 

What heiice infers Lorenzo 1 Can it be 
Matter immortal ? And shall spirit die ? 
Above the nobler, shall less noble rise? 
Shall man alone, for whom all else revives, 
.No resurrection know '! Shall man alone, 
imperial man! be sown in barren ground, 
f ess privileg'd than grain, en which he feeds 
Is man, in whom alone is power to prize 
'J'he bliss of being, or with previous pain 
Deplore its period, by the spleen of Fate, 
fc^everely doom'd Death's single unredeera d .' 

If Nature's revolution speaks aloud, 
In her gradation, hear her louder still. 
Look Nature through, 'tis neat gradation a 1. 
Bv what minute degrees her scale ascends . 
Each middle Nature join'd at each extreme, 
To that above it .ioin'd, to that beneath, 
Parts, into parts reciprocally shot, 
Abhor divorce : What love of union reigns ! 
Here, dormant matter waits a call to li e ; 
Half- ife, half-death, join there; here, 1. e.and sense 
There, sen^e from reason steals a ghmm nng ray : 
lleason shines out in man. But how preserv d 
The chain unbroken upward, lo the realms 
Of incorporeal life'! those realms of Hiss 
Where death hath no domuuon ! Grant a make 
Half-mortal, half- immortal! earthy, part; 
And part ethereal ; grant the soul of man 
Eternal: or in man the series enas. 
Wide yawns the gap ; coimection is no more; 
Check'd Reason halts ; her next step wants support; 
Striving to climb, she tumbles from i:er scheme; 
A scheme Analogy prcnouuc'd so true ; 
Analogy, man's surest fr.uidc below. 



THE INFIDEL RECLAIMED. 1©1 

Thus far, all Nature calls on thy belief. 
And will Lorenzo, careless of the call, 
False attestation on all nature charge, 
Rather than violate his league with Death ? 
Renounce his reason, rather than renounce 
The dust belov'd, and run the risk of Heaven 1 
O -what indignity to deathless souls ! 
What treason to the majesty of man! 
Df man immortal ! Hear the lofty style : 
" If so decreed, th' Almighty Will be done. 
*' Let earth dissolve, yon pond'rous orbs descend, 
" And grind us into dust: The soul is safe; 
" The man emerges; mounts above the wreck, 
" As tow'ring flame from Nature's fun'ral pyre : 
" O'er devastation, as a gainer smiles ; 
" His charter, his inviolable rights, 
" Well-pleas'd to learn from Thunder's impotence, 
" Death's pointless darts, and Hell's defeated storms." 

But these chin>eras touch not thee, Lorenzo! 
The glories of the world, thy sev'nfold shield. 
Other ambition than of crowns in air. 
And superlunary felicities. 
Thy bosom warm. I'll cool it, if I can; 
And turn those glories that enchant, against thee- 
What ties thee to this life, proclaims the next. 
If wise, the cause that wounds thee is thy cure. 

•Come, my ambitious ! let us mount together 
(To mount Lorenzo never can refuse ;) 
And from the clouds, where pride delights to dwell, "* 
Look down on earth.— What seest tliou ? Wondrous 
Terrestrial wonders, that eclipse the skies, [things ! 
What lengths of labour'd lands '■ what loaded seas ! 
Loaded by man, for yileasure, wealth, or war ! 
Seas, winds, and planets, into service brought, 
His art acknowledge, and promote his ends. 
Nor can th' eternal rocks his will withstand; 
What ievell'd mountains ! An.i what lifted vales! 
O'er vales and mountains sumptuous cities swell, 
And gild our landscape with their glitt'ring spires. 
Some raid the wond'ring waves majestic rise ; 
And Neptune holds a mirror to tneir charms. 
Par greater still ! (what cannot mortal might ?) 
See wide dominions ravish'd from the deep ; 
The narrow'd deep with indignation foams. 
5r southward turn, to delicate, and grand ; 
The finer arts there ripen in the sun. 
'-low the tail temples, as to meet their gods, 
iscend the skies ! the proud triumphal arch 



It2 THE COMPLAINT. mghl VI. 

Fhows us half Heaven beneath its ample bend. 
High thro' mid air, here, streams are taught to flow; 
Whole rivers, there, laid by in basons, sleep. 
Here, plains turn oceans ; there, vast oceans join 
Thro' liingdoms ( hannel'd deep from shore to shore; 
And chang'd Creation takes its face from man. 
Beats thy brave hreast for formidable scenes, 
Where fame and empire wait upon the sword 1 
See fields in hlood; hear naval thunders rise; 
Britannia's voice ! that awes the world to peace. 
How yon enormous mote projecting brealis 
The mid-sea, furious waves ! their roar amidst, 
Out-speaks the Deity, and says, " O main ! 
" Thus far, not farther : new restraints obey." 
Earth's disembowel'd ! measur'd are the skies ! 
.Stars are detected in their deep recess ! 
Creation widens ! vanquish'd nature yields! 
Her secrets are extorted ! Art prevails ! 
What monument of genius, spirit power ! 

And now, Lorenzo, raptur'd at this scene, 
Whose glories render Heaven superfluous ! say, 
Whose footsteps these ! — Immortals have been here. 
Could less than souls immortal this have done ? 
Earth's cover'd o'er with proofs of souls immortal; 
And proofs of immortality forgot 

To flatter thy grand foible, I confess, 
These are ambition's works : and these are great : 
But this, the least immortal souls can do : 
Transcend them all. — But what can these transcend! 
Dost ask me, What? — One sigh for the distrest. 
What then for inftdels ? A. deeper sigh. 
'Tis moral grandeur makes the mighty man ; 
How little they, who tliink aught great below 1 
AH our ambitions Death defeats, but one : 
And that it crowns. — Here cease we : But ere long» 
More pow'rful proof shall take the field against thee» 
Stronger than Death, and smiling at the tomb. 



PREFACE 

TO 

PART II. 

OF 

THE INFIDEL RECLAIMED, 



-As -we are at war wHh the power, it were well if 
we were at war with the manners, of France. A land 
of lev.ty ,s a land of guilt. A serious mind is the 
native soil of every virtue, and the single character 
that does true honour to mankind. The soul's im- 
mortality has been the favourite theme with the se- 
rious of all ases. Nor is it strange; it is a subject by 
far the most interesting and important that can enter 
the mind of man. Of highest moment this subject 
ilways was, and always will be. Yet this its highest 
moment seems to admit of increase, at this day ■ a 
50rt of occa.=!ional importance is superadded to the 
latural weight of it; if that opinion which is advanced 
jn the Preface to the preceding Night, be just II 
Is there supposed that all our inSdels, whatever 
cheme. for argument's sake, and to keep themselves 
n countenance, they patronise, are betrayed inta 
heir deplorable error, by some doubt of their im- 
Qortality at the bottom. And the more I consider 
his point, the more I am persuaded of the truth of 
hat opinion. Though the distrust of a futurity is a 
trange error; yet it is an error, into which bad men 
lay naturally be distressed. For it is impossible to 
Id defiance to (inal ruin, without some refuge in 
jnagination, some presumption of escape. And what 
[rePHiBptioo is there ? There are but two ia nature • 



104 PREFACE. 

but two within the compass of human thought : and 
these are— That either God will not, or cannot punish. 
Considering the divine attributes, the first is too 
gross to be digested by our strongest wishes. And, 
since Omnipotence is as much a divine attribute as 
holiness, that God cannot punish, is as absurd a suppo- 
tion as the former. God certainly can punish, as long 
as wicked men exist. In non-existence, therefore, 
is their only refuge-, and consequently, non-existence 
is their strongest wish. And strong wishes have a 
strange influence on our opinions ; they bias the judg- 
ment in a manner almost incredible. And since on 
this member of their alternative, there are some very 
small appearances in their favour, and none at all on 
the other, they catch at this reed, they lay hold on this 
chimera, to save themselves from the shock and horror 
of an immediate and absolute despair. 

On reviewing my subject, by the light which this ar- • 
gument, and others of like tendency, threw upon it, I ; 
was more inclined than ever to pursue it, as it appear- - 
ed to me to strike directly at the main root of all ouFd 
infidelity. In the following pages it is, accordingly, 
pursued at large ; and some arguments for immortali- 
ty, new (at least to me) are ventured on in them. 
There also the writer has made an attempt to set the 
gross absurdities and horrors of annihilation in a fuller 
and more affecting view, than is, 1 think, to be met 
with elsewhere. 

The gentlemen for whose sake this attempt wais 
chiefly made, profess great admiration for the wisdom 
of heathen antiquity; what pity it is they are not sin- 
cere ! If they were sincere, how would it mortify 
them to consider with what contempt and abhorrence 
their notions would have been received, by those 
whom they so much admire ! What degree of con- 
tempt and abhorrence would fall to their share, maj 
be conjectured by the following matter of fact, in mj 
opinion, extremely memorable. Of all their heather 
worthies, Socrates, it is well known, was the mos 
guarded, dlspasEionate, and conjpoBed ; yet this greT, 



PREFACE. 105 

master of temper nvas angry; and angry at his last 
hour ! and angry with his friend ; and angry for what 
deserved acknowledgement ; angry for a right and ten- 
der instance of true friendship toward him. Is not 
this surprising? What could be the cause 1 The cause 
was for his honour; it was a truly noble, though, per- 
haps, a too punctilious regard for immortality : for his 
friend asking him, with such an affectionate concern 
as became a friend, " Where he should deposit his 
remains ?" it was resented by Socrates ; as implying a 
dishonourable supposition, that he could be so mean, 
as to have regard for any thing, even in himself, that 
was not immortal. 

This fact, well considered, would make our infidels 
withdraw their admiration from Socrates; or make 
them endeavour, by their imitation of this illustrious 
example, to share his glory : and consequently, it 
would incline them to peruse the following pages with 
candour and impartiality: which is all I desire; and 
that, for their sakes : for I am persuaded, that an un- 
prejudiced infidel must, necessarily, receive some atl- 
"antageous impressions from them. 

JttIy7,]7U, 



ME 

COMPLAINT. 

h'IGHT VIL 

Being the Second Part of 
THE INFIDEL RECLAIMED. 

CONTAINING 

The JS'ature, Proof, and Importance of Immorlalit\j. 



Heav'n gives the needful, but neglected call. 
What day, -what hour, but knocks at human hearts 
To wake the soul to sense of future scenes? 
Deaths stand, like Mercuries, in ev'ry way; 
And kindly point us to our journey's end. 
Pope, who couldst make immortals; art thou dead ? 
I give theejoy : nor will I take my leave ; 
So soon to follow. Man but dives in death ; 
Dives from the sun, in fairer day to rise ; 
The grave, his subterranean road to bliss. 
Yes, infinite indulgence plann'd it so; 
Thro' various parts our glorious story runs ; 
Time gives the preface, endless age unroUa 
The volume (ne'er unroH'd !) of human fate. 

This, earth and skies* already have proclaim'd, 
The world's a prophecy of world's to come; 
And who, what God foretels (who speaks in things 
Still louder than in words) shall dare deny 1 
If nature's arguments appear too -weak, 

* mzhi the Sixth. 



THE INPIBEL RECLAIMED. 167 

Turn a new leaf, and stronger read in man. 
If man sleeps on, untaught by what he sees, 
Can he prove infidel to what he feels ? 
He, whose blind thought futurity denies, 
Unconscious bears, Bellerophon ! like thee, 
His own indictment; he condemns himself; 
Who reads his bosom, reads immortal life ; 
Or, Nature there, imposing on her sons, 
Has written fables ; man was made a lie. 

Why discontent for ever harbour'd there? 
Incurable consumption of our peace ! 
Iles^lve me, why, the cottager, and king, 
He, whom sea-sever'd realms obey, and he 
Who steals his whole dominion from the waste. 
Repelling winter blasts with mud and straw, 
Disquieted alike, draw sigh for sigh. 
In fate so distant, in complaint so near ? 

Is it, that things terrestrial can't content? 
Deep in rich pasture, will thy flocks complain ) 
Wot SO; but to their master is denied 
To share their sweet serene. Man, ill at ease, 
In this, not his own place, this foreign field, 
Where Nature fodders him with other food 
Than was ordain'd his cravings to suffice, 
Poor in abundance, famish'd at a feast, 
Sighs on for sometliing more, when most enjoy *d. 
Is heav'n then kinder to thy flocks than thee 'J 
Not so ; thy pasture richer, but remote ; 
In part remote; for that remoter part 
Man bleats from instinct, tho', perhaps debauch'd 
By sense, his reason sleeps, nor dreams the cause. 
The cause how obvious, when his reason wakes ! 
His grief is but his grandeur in disguise; 
And discontent is immortality. 

Shall sons of ether, shall the blood of heav'n, 
Set up their hopes on earth, and stable here, 
With brutal acquiescence in the mire? 
I.orenzo, no ! they shall be nobly pain'd ; 
The glorious foreigners, distrest, shall sigh 
On thrones ; and thou congratulate the sig!) : 
Man's misery declares him born for bliss : 
His anxious "heart asserts the truth I sing. 
And gives the Sceptic in bii head the lie. 

Our heads, our hearts, our passions, and our i)Ow'r?, 
Fpeak the same language; call us to the skies: 
UnrJpen'd tiiese in this inclement clime, 
Scarce rise above conjecture, and mistake; 
Afid for thii land oftrijles those too strong 



'j08 the complaint. mght rir. 

Tumultuous rise, and tempest human life: 

What prize on earth can pay us for the storm 1 

Meet objects for our passions heav'n ordain'd, 

Objects that challenge all their fire, and leave 

No fault but in defect : blest heav'n ! avert 

A bounded ardour for unbounded bliss ; 

O for a bliss unbounded ! far beneath 

A soul immortal, is a mortal joy. 

Nor are our pow'rs to perish immature; 

But, after feeble effort here, beneath 

A brighter sun, and in a nobler soil, 

Transplanted from this sublunary bed, 

Shall nourish fair, and put forth all their bloom. 

Reason progressive, instinct is complete; 
Swift instinct leaps ; slow reason feebly climbs. 
Brutes soon their zenith reach; their little aU 
Flows in at once; in ages they no more 
Could know, or do, or covet, or enjoy. 
Were man to live coeval with the sun, 
The patriarch pupil would be learning still ; 
Yet, dying, leave his lesson half-unlearnt. 
Men perish in advance, as if the sun 
Should set ere noon, in eastern oceans drown'd; 
If fit, with dim, illustrious to compare. 
The sun's meridian, with the soul of man. 
To man,why. step-dame Nature! so severe? 
Why thrown aside thy master-piece half wrought, 
While meaner efforts thy last hand enjoy 1 
Or, if abortively poor man must die, 
Nor reach, what reach he might, why die in dread? 
'\Vhy curst with foresight? Wise to misery? 
Why ol his proud prerogative the prey ? 
Why less pre-eminent in rank, than pain ? 
His immortality alone can tell ; 
Full ample fund to balance all amiss, 
And turn the scale in favour of the just ! 

His immortality alone can solve 
That darkest of enigmas, human hope ; 
Of all the darkest, if at death we die, 
Hope, eager hope,th' assassin of our joy. 
All present blessings treading under foot, 
Is scarce a milder tyrant than despair. 
With no past toils content, still planning new, 
Hope turns us o'er to death alone for ease, 
possession, why, more tasteless than pursuit? 
Why is a wish far dearer than a crown ? 
That wish accomplish'd, why, the grave of bliss ! 
Because, in the great future buried deep, 



THE INFIDEL RECLAIMEt). m 

beyond our plans of empire and renown, 
aes all that man with ardour should pursue- 
ind HE who made him bent him to the risht 

aian's heart th' Almighty to the future si s, 
•y secret and inviolal)le sprin^^s • 
Old makes his hope his sublunary joy. 
Ian s heart eats all things, and is hungry still • 

More, more !" the glutton cries; for somethin»n*.w 
p rages appetite, if man can't mount, '°'"^^^^"'= °«^ 

'L''' Mf^^^""!-. "^ ^^^^'^-^ on the possest. 
Lence, the world's master, from ambition's spire 

' ^^"^ r«nk sty why wallow'd empire's son 
upreme? Because he could no higher flv- 
IS not was ambition in despair. ' 

Old Rome consulted birds : Lorenzo! thou. 
. ith more success, the flight of hope survey 
f restless hope, for ever on the wing. ^ 

o fl,?!rn^.,°T.'^^"^y ^l^o^'ght that falcon sitg, 

fly at all that rises in her sight • ' 
nd, never stooping, but to mount again 

ext moment, she betrays her aim's mistake. 
Tfrf\^^^r'-fP: lodg'dbeyond the grave. 
There should it fail us (it must fail us there 
being fails) more mournful riddles rise ' 

nd virtue vies with hope in mystery 
hy virtue? Where its praise, its being, fled' 
irtue IS true self-interest pursu'd : ' 

hat true self-interest of quite mortal man' 
3 close with all that makes him happy here 
vice (as sometimes) is our friend on earth 
len vice is virtue : 'tis our sov'reign good 
self-applause is virtue's golden prize : 

1 self-applause attends it on thy scheme : 

hence self-applause ? From conscience of the ri<^ht 
Id what IS right, but means of happiness ' ° 

3 means of happiness when virtue yields ; 
lat basis failing, falls the building too, 
Id lays in rum ev'ry virtuous joy. 
Ihe rigid guardianof a blameless heart, 
long rever'd, so long reputed wise, 
weak; with rank knight-errantries o'er-ruu 
:iy beats thy bosom with illustrious dreams 
sen-exposure, laudable and great '' 
gallant enterprise, and glorious death ? 
efor thy country?— thou romantic fool ' 

V ™f ^ ?^ P^^"'' ^^^''^^^^ ^°d let her'sink : 
y country ! what to thee ?-Tbe Godhead, what > 



Id THB COMPLAINT. mghtr'H 

(T speak with awe !) tho' he should bid thee bleed ; 
If, with thy blood, thy filial hope is spilt, 
Nor can Omnipotence reward the blow ; 
Be deaf; preserve thy being ; disobey. 

Nor is it disobedience : know, Lorenzo . 
Whate'er tW Almighty's subsequent commaDd 
His lirstcommand is this— " Man, love thyseli. 
In this alone, free agents are not free. 
iExistence is the basis, bliss the prize ; 
If virtue costs existence, 'tis a crime ;, 
Bold violation of our law supreme. 
Black suicide ; tho' nations, which consult 
Their gain, at thy expense, resound applause. 
Since virtue's recompense IS doubtful here, 
If man dies wholly, well may we demand. 
Why is man suffered to be good in vain f 
Why to be good in vain, is man en.ioiu d ! 
Wliy to be good in vain, is man beiray d 7 
Betiav'd bv traitors lodged in his own breaat, 
Bv sweet complacenries from virtue lelt . 
Why whispers Nature lies on \ irtue's part . 
Or if blind instinct (which assumes the name 
Of sacred conscience) play the fool in man,^ 
Why reason made accomplice in the cheat 
Why are the widest loudest in her praise { 
Can man by reason's beam be led astray . 
Or, at his peril, imitate his God ! 
tJince virtue sometimes ruins us on farth. 
Or both are true •, or, man survives the grave 

Or man sur%ive3 the grave, or own, Lorenzo, 
Thy boast sipreme, a wild absurdity. 
Dauntless tl,y spirit ; cov.ardsare thy scorn. 
Grant man immortal, an.i thy scorn is just. 
The man immortal, rationally brave, 
Dares rush on doath-because he cannot die. 
But if man loses all, when life is lost, 
He lives a coward, or a iool expire?. 
A daring infidel, (and such there are. 
From pride, example, lucre rage, revenge. 
Or pure heroical delect ol thought) 
Of all earth's madmen, aio^l/'^^f.^r,.','; '^^ d 
When to the grave we -.ollow the renown a 
For valour, virtue, science, all 'J'e !";;'"«• .... Veo„ 
\nd all we praise •, for worth, whose noon-tide bean 
i:nabliiig us to think in higher style, 
Mends our ideas of etliereal pow rs ; 
Dream we, that lustre of the moral world ^ 
Goes out in stench, and rovtennebi the clo« . 



THE INPIDEL RECLAIMED. Ill 

thy was he wise to know, and warm to praise, 
\.ucl strenuous to transcribe in human life, 
The mind Almighty ? could it be, that fate, 

ust when the lineaments begin to shine, 
Lnd dawn, the Deity should snatch the draught, 
\ ith night eternal blot it out, and give 
The skies alarm, lest angels too might die ? 

If human souls, why not angelic too 
Ixtinguish'd ? and a solitary God, 
I'er ghastly ruin, frowning from his throne ? 
hall we this moment gaze on God in man ? 

he next, lose man for ever in the dust' 
'rom dust we disengage, or man mistakes; 
Lnd there, where least bis judgment fears a flaw 

V isdom and worth, how boldly he commends ^ 
v;isdom and worth are sacred names ; rever'd, 
Vhere not embraced ! applauded ! deified ! 
vhy not compassion'd too? If spirits die, 

■oth are calamities, inflicted both, 
'o make us but more wretched : wisdom's evc 
.cute, for what? To spy more miseries ; 
-nd worth, sorecompens'd, new-points their stingy 
•r man surmounts the grave, or gain is loss, 
.nd worth exalted, humbles us the more, 
hou wilt not patronise a scheme that makes 

V eakness and vice the refuge of mankind ' 

•'Has virtue, then, no joys?" Yes, joys dear bought, 
alk ne er so long, in this imperfect state, 
ii-tue, and vice, are at eternal war. 
irtue's a combat ; and who lights for nought ' 
r for precarious, or for small reward ? 
/ho virtue's self-reward so loud resound, 
/"ould take degrees angelic here below, 
nd virtue, while they compliment, betray, 
y feeble motives, and unfaithful guards, 
'he crown, th' unfading crown, her soul inspires • 
I IS that, and that alone, can countervail 
he body's treach'ries, and the world's assaults • 
n earth's poor pay our famish'd A'lrtue dies, 
ruth incontestible ! In spite of all 
Bayle has preach'd, or a Voltaire believ'd. 
In man the more we dive, the more we see 
eav'n's signet stamping an immortal make, 
ive to the bottom of his soul, the base 
jstaining all ; what find we? Knowledge, love 
s light, and heat, essential to the sun, 
bese to the soul. And why, if souls expire ' 
ow little lovely here ? How little known'' 



112 THE COMPLAINT. NigUVir. 

Small knowledge we dig up with endless toil ! 

And love unfeian'd may purchase perfect hate! 

Why starv'd, on earth, our angel-appetites ; 

While brutal are indulg'd their fulsome fill ? 

Were then capacities divine conferr'd, 

As a mock diadem, in savage sport, * 

Rank insult of our pompous poverty, 

Which reaps but pain, from seeming claims so fair : 

In future age lies no redress? And shuts 

Eternity the door on our complaint? 

If so, for what strange ends were mortals made? 

The worst to wallow, and the best to weep ; 

The man who merits most, must most complain ; 

Can we conceive a disregard in heav'n, 

What the worst perpetrate, or best endure? 

This cannot be. To love, and know, in man 
Is boundle?=s appetite, and boundless pow'r ; 
And these demonstrate bounilless objects too. 
Obiects, pow'rs, appetites, heav'n suits in all: 
]Sior, nature thro', e'er violates this sweet 
Eternal concord, on her tuneful string. 
Is man the sole exception from her laws ? 
Eternity struck oif from human hope, 
(I speak with truth, but veneration too) 
Man is a monster, the reproach of heav n, 
A stain, a dark impenetrable cloud 
On nature's beauteous aspect : and deforms, 
. Amazing blot !) deforms her with her lord. 
If such is man's allotment, what is heav'n ? 
Or own the soul immortal, or blaspheme. 

Or own the soul immortal, or invert 
All order. Go, mock-majesty ! go, man . 
And bow to thy superiors of the stall; 
Thro' ev'ry scene of sense superior far ; 
They graze the turf untill'd ; they dr nk the stream 
Unbrew'd, and ever full, and un-embitterd 
WUh doubts, fears, fruitless hopes, regrets, despairs 
Mankind's peculiar ' Reason's precious dow'r ! 
No foreign clime they ransack for their robes; 
Nor brothers cite to the litigious bar ; 
Their good is good entire, unmix'd, unmarr d, 
Tliev find a paradise in ev'ry field, 
On boughs forbidden where no curses hang : 
Their ill, no more than strikes the sense; unstretcht , 
Bv previous dread, or murmur in the rear : . 

When the worst comes, it co.mes unfear'd ; one strQk( 
Kins, and ends, their wo: they die but once ; \ 



THE INFIDEL RECLAIMED. 113 

oud man, who rules the globe, and reads the stars 
liilosopher, or hero, sighs in vain 
Account for this prerogative in brutes. 
day, no glimpse of day to solve the knot, 
lit what beams on it from eternity, 
sole, and sweet solution ! That unties 
he difficult, and softens the severe ; 
he cloud on nature's beauteous face dispels • 
estores bright order; casts the brute beneath • 
nd re-enthrones us in supremacy 
joy, e'en here : admit immortal life, 
nd virtue is knight-errantry no more ; 
ich virtue brings in hand a golden dower, 
ir richer in reversion ; hope exults ; 
nd though much bitter in our cup is thrown, 
•edominates, and gives the taste of heaven, 
whereiore is the Deity so kind 1 
stonishing beyond astonishment ! 
eaven our reward— For heaven enjoy'd below 
btill unsubdu'd thy stubborn heart?— For there 
tie traitor lurks, who doubts the truths I sing, 
eason is guiltless ; will alone rebels, 
hat, in that stubborn heart, if I should find 
ew, unexpected witnesses against thee '' 
mbition, pleasure, and the love of gain ! 
jnst thou suspect, that these, which make the souf 
he slave ot earth, should own her heir of heaven'' 
inst thou suspect what malves us disbelieve 
ur immortality, should prove it sure 1 
First, then. Ambition summon to the bar. 
mbition's shame, Extravagence, Disgust, 
nd inextinguishable Nature, speak, 
ich much deposes ; hear them in their turn. 
Thy soul, how passionately fond of fame ! 
ow anxious that fond passion to conceal ! 
e blush, detected in designs on praise, 
hough for best deeds, and from the best of men • 
Bd why? Because immortal. Art divine ' 

as made the body tutor to the soul ; 
eaven kindly gives our blood a moral flow ; 
ds it ascend the glowing cheek, and there 
pbraid that little heart's inglorious aim, 
hich stoops to court a character from man ; 
hile o'er us in tremendous judgments sit, 
ir more than man, with endless praise and blaifie, 
Amlntion's boundless appetite outspeaks 
he verdict of its shame. When souls take fire 
t high presumptJOfls of their own desert, 



lU THE COMPLAINT. NigM VILi 

One age is poor applause ; the mighty shout. 

The thunder by the living few begun, 

I,ate time must echo; worlds unborn, resound. 

We wish our names eternally to live : 

Wild dream ! whicli ne'er had haunted human thought,] 

Had not our natures been eternal too. 

Instinct points out an int'rest in hereafter; 

But our blind reason sees not where it lies ; 

Or seein?, gives the substance for the shade. 

Fame is the shade of immortality, 
And in itself a shadow. Soon as caught, 
Contemn'd ; it shrinks to nothing in the grasp 
Consult th' ambitious, 'tis ambition's cure. 
" And is this all .'" cried Caesar at his height, 
Disgusted. This third proof ambition brings 
Of immortality. The first in fame, 
Observe him near, your envy will abate : 
f^ham'd at the disproportion vast, between 
The passion, and the purchase, he will sigh 
At such success, and blush at his renown. 
And why? Because far richer prize mvites 
His heart; far more illustrious glory calls; 
It calls in whispers, yet the deafest hear. 

And can Ambition a fourth proof supply? 
It can, and stronger than the former three; 
Yet quite o'crlook'd by some reputed wise. 
Though disappointments in ambition pam, 
And thouirh success disgusts; yet still, Lorenzo . 
In vain we strive to pluck it from our hearts; 
By nature planted for the noblest ends. 
Absurd the fam'd advice to Pyrrhus given 
More prais'd than ponder'd ; specious, but unsound : 
Sooner that hero's sword the world had quell d, 
Than reason, his ambition. Man must soar. 

An obstinate activity within. 
An insuppressive spring, will tos? him up, 
In snite of fortune's load. Not kings alone, 
Kach villager has his ambition too; 
Vo Hultan prouder than his 'etter'd slave : 
Slaves build their little Bal'ylons of straw, 
Echo the proud Assyrian, in their hearts, _ 
Knd cry,—" Behold the wonders oimv might V 
And whv ? Because immortal as their Lord; 
Ind souls immortal must for ever heave 
At somethine: great, the glitter, or the gold; 
'j'he praise of mortals, or the praise of Heareii. 

Nor absolutely vain is human praise, 
When humao is supported by divijie. 



THE INFIDEL RECLAIMED. (] 

.1 introduce Lorenzo to himself: 
easure and Pride (bad masters !) share our hearts. 
5 love of pleasure is ordain'd to guard 
jd feed our bodies, and extend our race; 
rie love of praise is planted to protect 
id propagate the glories of the mind, 
hat is it, but the love of praise, inspires, 
atuves, refines, embellishes, exalts, 
irth's happiness? From that, the delicate, 
le grand, the marvellous, of civil life, 
ant and convenience, under-work ers, lay 
le basis, on which love of glory builds. 
)r is Ihy life, O virtue ! less in debt 
) praise, thy secret timulating friend, 
ere man not proud, what merit should we miss, 
ide made the virtues of the Pagan ivorld. 
lise is the salt that seasons right to man, 
iid whets his appetite for moral good, 
j irst of applause is virtue's second guard ; 
ason, her first; but reason wants an aid ; 
r private reason is a flatterer; 
irst of applause calls public judgment in, 
poise our own, to keep an even scale, 
1 give endanger'd virtue fairer play. 
iere a fifth proof arises, stronger still : 
ly this so nice construction of our hearts ? 
ese delicate moralities of sense; 
Is constitutional reserve of aid 
succour virtue, when our reason fails ; 
virtue, kept alive by care and toil, 
d, oft, the mark of injuries on earth, 
len labour'd to maturity (its bill 
disciplines, and pain, unpaid) must die? 
ly freighted rich to dash against a rock ! 
re man to perish when most tit to live, 
low mis-spent were all these stratagems, 
skill divine inwoven in our frame 1 
lere are heaven's holiness and mercy fled ! 
ighs heaven, at once, at virtue, and at man 1 
lot, why that discourag'd, this destroy'd ] 
'hus far ambition. What says Avarice ? 
is her cOief maxim, which has lo.ng been thine : 
'he wise and weiltliy are the same."— I grant it. 
store up treasure, with incessant toil, 
is is man's province, this his highest praise, 
this great end keen instinct slings him on. 
guide that instinct. Reason! is thy chrirge; 
i thiae to tell us where true treasure lies : 



liG THE COMPLAINT. Mght ri\ 

But, reason failing to discharge her trust, 
Or to the deaf discharging it in vain, 
A blunder follows ; and blind industry, 
Tiall'd by the spur, but stranger to the course, 
(Tlie course where stakes of more than gold are ttoe 
O'erloading, with the cares of distant age, 
The jaded spirits of the present hour, 
Provides for an eternity below. 

*' Thou shalt not covet," is a wise command; 
Hut bounded to the wealth the sun surveys : 
J.ook farther, the command stands quite revers'd, 
And av'ricc is a virtue most divine. 
Is faith a refuge for our happiness! 
Most sure : and is it not for reason too ■! 
^Nothing this world unriddles, but the next. 
Whence inextinguishable thirst of gain 1 
From inextinguishable life in man : 
iilan, if not meant, by worth, to reach the skies, 
Had wanted wing to fly so far in guilt. 
Sour grapes, 1 grant, ambition, avarice : 
Yet still their root is immortality. 
These its wild growtlis so bitter, and so base, 
(Pain and reproach !) religion can reclaim, 
Refine, exalt, throw down their pois'nous lee, 
And make them sparkle in the bowl of bliss. 

See the third witness laughs at bliss remote. 
And falsely promises an Eden here : 
Truth she shall speak for once, though prone to lie, 
A common cheat, and Pleasure is her name. 
To pleasure never was Lorenzo deaf; 
Then hear her now, now first thy real friend. 

Since nature made us not more fond than proud 
Of happiness (whence hypocrites in joy ! 
Makers of mirth ! artificers of smiles !) 
Why should the joy most poignant sense affords, 
Burn us with blushes, and rebuke our pride? — 
Those heav'n-born blushes tell us man descends^ 
E'en in the zenith of his earthly bliss : 
Should reason take her infidel repose, 
This honest instinct speaks our lineage high ; 
This instinct calls on darkness to conceal 
Our rapturous relation to the stalls. 
Our glory covers us with noble shame. 
And he that's unconfounded, is unmann'd. 
The man that blushes, is not quite a brute. 
Thus far with thee, Lorenzo! will I close. 
Pleasure is good, and man for pleasure made; 
But pleasure full of glory, as of joy ; 
Pleasure, which neither blushes nor expires. 



THE INFIDEL RECLAIMED. n7 

The Tsitne^ses are heard; the cause is o'er- 
.eJp?fh''"^'*^J' *u^^ '^"t«"^e in her court: 
•earer than deeds that half a realm convey 

ius,seal'd by truth, th' authentic record runs 

1 IS immortality your nature solves • 
1 IS immortality deciphers man, 

WkhnEf if ^'^V^^."^yst'^es of his make. 

Without It, half his instincts are a riddle- 

H ithout It, all his virtues are a dream ' 

His very crimes attest his dignity a 

His sateless thirst of pleasare, gold, ^d fame. 

Declares him born for blessings infinite • 

VV hat less than infinite, makes unabsurd ' 

Passions, which all on earth but more inflames ? 

SrJtAF^ '?°f-','" mismeasur'd to this scene, 

^tretch'd out, like eagle's wings, beyond our Aest 

Par, far beyond the worth of all below, ' 

ti or earth too large, presage a nobler flight. 

And evidence our title to the skies." 

Ye gentler theologues, of calmer kind ! 

hose constitution dictates to your pen, 

Sl'^nif y°"»'^elyes, think ardour comes from hell ! 

hnk not our passions from corruption sprung. 

10 to corruption now they lend their wingsl 

lat IS their mistress, not their mother. All 

nd justly) reason deem divine : I see, 

■?el a grandeur in the passions too, 

\Kh speaks their high descent, and glorious end 

uch speaks them rays of an eternal fire. ' 

Paradise itself they burnt as strong, 

3 Adam fell ; tho' wiser in their aim. . 

e the proud Eastern, struck by Providence 
lat tho' our passions are run mad, and stoop 
ta low, terrestrial appetite, to graze 
trash, on toys, dethron'd from high desire ? 
b still, thro' their disgrace, a feeble ray 
jreatness shines, and tells us whence they fell • 

these (like that fall'n monarch when reclaim'd) 

)n reason moderates the rein aright, 

U re-ascend, re-mount their former sphere, 

ere once they soar'd illustrious ; ere seduc'd 

wanton Eve's debauch, to stroll on earth, 

1 set the sublunary world on fire. 

lit grant their frenzy lasts ; their frenzy fails 

divapfiOint one providential end, 

which heav'n blew up ardour in our hearts : 
re reason silent, boundless passion speaks 



153 THE COMPLAINT. mgU VU 

A future scene, of boundless objects too, | 

Ind brings glad tidings of eternal day j 

v'nal day ! 'T is that enlightens all; j 

^nd atl. by that enU.hten'd proves it sure. ,| 

?sisusr?:Sd'J5^SS^; 
s^^^ts-;sr;:^|^s^esu.^.^^^^^ 

::rro\^'»V%Vr?"'-^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

u (ind who Sf --don. so renown das they .) 

.. Denied this immortality to ma • 

I grant it ; but affirm they prox d t too. _ 

wrnmp" 

■• 1 bed 0? roses, or the burniiis btll. 

wonder at them, ^n<i ^^onder at im eu, 

To llnd the bold ad ven ares ot 1. Uou ^ ^^^^ fl. 

s-s;xxfbe7'our.»^^^^ 



THE INFIDEL RECLAIMED. 119 

av'd nonsense, destin'd to be future sense. 

'hen life immortal in full day should shine ; 

nd death's dark shadows fly the gospel sun! 

hey spoke, what nothing but immortal souls 

3uid speak; and thus the truth they question'd, 

Can then absurdities, as well as crimes, [prov'd 

>eak man immortal ? All things speak him so. 

uch has been urg'd ; and dost thou call for more '' 

ill; and with endless questions be distrest, 

1 unresolvable, if earth is all. 

•' Why life, a moment ; infinite desire ! 

Our wish, eternity ? Our home, the grave ? 

Heaven's promise dormant lies in human hope ■ 

iVho wishes life immortal, proves it too. ' 

kVhy happiness purs- 'd, tho' never found? 

Man's thirst of happiness declares it is, 

;For nature never gravitates to nought :) 

That thirst, unquench'd, declares it is not here 

My Lucia, thy Clarissa, call to thought; ' ' 

tVhy cordial friendship riveted so deep, 

\s hearts to pierce at first, at parting, rend, 

.f friend and friendship, vanish in an hour? 

-s not this torment in the mask of joy ? " 

■Vhy by reflection marr'd the joys' of sense? 

■Vhy, past and future, preying on our hearts, 

Ind putting all our present jovs to death? 

Vhy labours reason? Instinct were as well; 

nstinct, far better; what can choose, can err- 

) how infallible the thoughtless brute? ' 

I'were well his holiness were half as sure. 

leason with inclination, why at war? 

Vhy sense of guilt? Why conscience up in arms ]" 

■onscience of guilt, is prophecy of pain, 

d bosom-counsel to decline the blow. 

ison with inclination ne'er had jarr'd, 

lothing future paid forbearance here. 

js on-^these, and a thousand pleas uncali'd, 

promise, some ensure, a second scene; 

ich, were it doubtful, would be dearear far 

ui all things else most certain ; were it false, 

at truth on earth so precious as the lie? 

s world it gives us, let what will ensue ; 

s world it gives, in that high cordial, hope : 

; future of the present is the soul : 

V this life groans, when sever'd from tke next ; 

r, mutilated wretch, that disbelieves ! 

dark mistrust his being cut in two, 



120 THE COMPLAINT. TfighlFUl 

In both parts perishes; life void of joy, 
Sad prelude of eternity in pain ! 

Couldst thou persuade me, the next life could fail 
Our ardent wishes ; how should I pour out 
My bleeding heart in anguish, new, as deep ! 
Oh ! with what thoughts, thy hope, and my despair, , 
Abhorr'd ANNIHILATION ! blasts the soul, i 

And wide extends the bounds of human wo ! ^ 

Could 1 believe Lorenzo's system true. 
In this black channel would my ravings run. 

" Grief from the future borrow'd peace, ere-wliile. 
" The future vanish'd ! and the present pain'd 1 
'• Strange import of unprecedented ill ! 
" Fall, huw profound 1 like Lucifer's, the fall; 
" Unequal fate ! his fall, without his guilt ! 
" From where fond hope built her pavilion high, 
" The gods among, hurl'd headlong, hurl'd at once 
" Tonight' to nothing! Darker still than night. 
" [f 'twas a dream, why wake me, my worst foe ! 
»' Lorenzo ! boastful of the name of friend ! 
•' O for dehision ! O for error still! 
*' Could vengeance strike much stronger than to plaii 
" A thijiking being in a world like this, 
" Not over-rich before, now bcggar'd quite; 
" More curst than at the falH— The sun goes out ! 
" The thorns shoot up ! What thorns in ev'ry though 
•' Why sense of better ? It embitters worse. 
" Whv sense! Wliy life? If but to sigh, then sink 
" To what I was ? Twice nothing ! and much ivol 
" Wo, from heaven's bounties! Wofrom what was wo 
'« To flatter most, high intellectual pow'rs ! [schei 
»' Thought, virtue, knowledge ! blessings, by thy 
" All poison'd into pains. First, knowledge, once 
" My soul's ambition, now her greatest dread. 
•' To know myself, true wisdom?— No, to siiuo. 
" That shocking science, parent of despair ! 
♦' Avert thy mirror -. if 1 see, I die. 

" Know my Creator? Climb his blest abode 
••••By painful speculation, pierce the veil, 
«' Dive in his nature, read his attributes, 
" And gaze in admiration — on a foe ' 

" Obtruding life, withholding happiness ! 
•* From the full rivers that surround his throne, 
•• Nor letting fall one drop of joy on man ; 
" Man gasping for one drop, that be might cease 
'■' To curse his bi th, nor envy reptiles more . 
'• Yfc sable clouds! Ye darkest shades of night! 
"Hide fcim, for ever hide him, from my thought 



THE INPIDEL RECLAIMED. ;_; 

Once all my comfort ; source, and soul of joy ! 
J\ow lea-^u'd with furies and with thee* ajrainst top 

Know his achievements ? Study his renowu ^ 
Contemplate this amazing universe, 
Dropt from his hand, with mirafies replete ' 
For what ? 'Mid miracles of nobler nauie, ' 
1 o find one miracle of misery ? 
To find the bein;;, which alone can know 
And praise his works, a blemis^h on his praise ' 
J hrouKh nature's ample ran,3:e in thoucrht to stroll 
And start at man, the sln-rle mourner 'there 

cStti"" ^'^^ ^'*^'^' "'''^'"''^ "^"'''■^ *° P^"SS and 
"Knowing is sufifring : and shall virtue sha-e 
The sigh of knowledge ?-Virtue shares the si^h 
By straining up the steep of exrellent " 

By battles fought, and, from temptation won 
nhat gains she, but the pang of seein" worth 
Ancehc worth, soon shuHled in the dark ' 

With ev'ry vice, and swept to bri-fcil dust '' 
Merit IS madness ; virtue is a crime • 
A crime to reason, if it costs u> pain' 
Unpaid : what pain amidst a thousand more 
To thmk the most abandon'd, after days ' 
Of triumph o'er their betters. Hnd in flf>ath 
1 As sott a pillow, nor make fouler clay ' 
" Duty! Religion !-These, our dutv dont; 
Imply reward. Religion is mistake. ' 
Duty '—There's none, but to repel the cheaf 
lYe cheats, away ! ye daughters of my nri-'e ' 
Who feign yourselves the favourites of the skies 
\ e tow'ring hopes ! ai)ortive energies • 
That toss and struagle, in my lying brrast, 
I o scale tae skies, and build presumption there 
As I were heir of an eternity 
Vam, vain am'.itions ! trouble me no more. 
Why travel far in quest of sure defeat ♦ 
As bounded as my being be my wish. 
AH is inverted, wisdom is a fool. 
Sense ' take the rein ; blind passion ! drive us oa ■ 
And, Ignorance ' befriend us on our way ■ 
Ye new, but truest patrons of our peace'' 
Yes ; give the pul-e lull empire, live the brute 
;5Uice as the brute, we die. Tl,e sum of man, ' 
Jf god-like man ! to revel, and to rot. - 



* Lor en to. 
F 



]o2 THE COMPLALNT. SfigM Vm 

" But not on equal terms with other brutes : 
" Their revels a niore poignant relish yield, 
■' And sal'er too; they never poisons choose. 
" Instinct, than reason, makes more wholesome meals,. 
»' And sends all-marring murnnir far away. 
" For sensual life they best philosophize; 
»' Theirs, that serene, the sages sought in vain : 
' 'Tis man alone expostulates with heav'n; 
'' His, all the pow'r, and all the cause, to mourn. 
• ' Fhall human eyes alone dissolve in tears I 
'' And Heed, in anguish, none but human hearts ' 
" The wide-stretch'd realm of intellectual wo, 
" Surpassin-r sensual far, is all our own. 
" In lite so fatally distiiiguish'd, why 
•> Cast in one lot, confounded, lumpt in death ? 

" Ere yet in being, was mankind in guilt ? 
= ' Why tUunder'd this peculiar clause against uS, 
■' All mortal and all-wretched ?— Have the skies 
" Reasons of state their suhjects may not scan, 
*' :Nor humbly reason, when they sorely sigh? 
<» All-mortal and all wretched !— 'Tis too much; 
"■ Unparallel'd in nature •• 'Tis too much; 
" On bf inji unrequested at thy hands, 
" Omnipotent ! for I see nought but pow'r. , ^ ^ 

" And why see that .' Why thought ' To toil and eatf 
'' Then make our bed in darkness, needs no thought. 
'• What superfluities are reas'ning souls? 
f' O t'ive eternity ! or thought destroy. 
•' But without thought our curse were half unfelt; 
" Its blunted edge would spare the throbbing heart; 
■•^ And therefore,' 'tis bestow'd. 1 thank thee, ReasoDij" 
<i For aiding life's too small calamities, 
•' And giving being to the dread of death. 
" Such are thy bounties !— Was it then too much 

• ' For me to trespass on the brutal rights ? 

" Too much for heav'n to make one emmet more ' 

" Toct'uich for chaos to permit my mass 

" A I'j.jier stay with essences unwroiight, 

" Unfasliion'd, untormented into man 1 

" Wretched preferment to this round of pains ! 

'' Wretched capacity of frenzy, thought 1 

.• Wretched capacity of dying, life ! 

u J ife thought, Avorth, wisdom, all (O foul revolt!) 

<i Once friends to peace, gone over to the foe. 

«« Death, then, has chang'd its nature too. O death 
" Come to my bosom, thou best gift of heav'n ! 
" Best friend of man ! since man is man no jnore- 

• ' Why ifl thtB tkomy wilderHtss soiougj 



THE INFIDEL RECLAIMED. 123 

Siuse there's no promisVi land's ambrosial bow'r, 
To pay me with its honey for my stin"? ' 
If needful to the selfish schemes of heav'n 

' ^^J^'l^ "^ ®^''^' ^'^y inf'Ck'd our misery? 

c «ru^ ^^ sumptuous insult o'er our heads ' 
W hy this illustrious canopy display'd'' 
VVhy so magnificently lodg'd despair ? 
At stated periods, sure-returning, roll 
These glorious orbs, that mortals may compute 
Iheir length of labours, and of pains; nor lose 
Their misery's full measure ?— Smiles with flow'r?. 
Ami truits, promiscuous, ever teeming earth, 
1 hat man may languish, in luxurious scenes, 
And m an Eden mourn his wither'd ioys ' 
Claim earth and skies man's admiration, due 
For such delights ? Blest animals ! too irise 
To wonder : and too happy to complain ! 

i ^xTu °ooni, decreed demands a mournful scete: 

. }Zu^ not a dungeon dark, for the condemn'd. 
Why not the dragon's subterraneous den. 

' For man to howl in ? VVhy not Ills abode 

^ 01 the same dismal colou. with his fate'' 

, ;^, ^*^6^6S' a Babylon, at vast expense 

• Of time, toil, treasure, art, for owls and adders 
As congruous, as, for man, this lofty dome, 
Which prompts proud thought, and kindles hi^fc 

. wVm^"" ^^^, '^i'™''*^ chamber in the du?t, [desire • 
VVhile proud thought swells, and high desire inflames 
The poor worm calls us for her inmates there • 
And, round us, death's inexorable hand 
JJraAvs the dark curtain close ; undrawn no roorp 

Lndrawn no more !— Behind the cloud of death. 
Once. I beheld a sun ; a sun which gilt 
That sable cloud, and turn'd it all to gold • 
How the grave's alter'd I Fathomless, as hell ! 

; A real hell to those who dreamt of heav'n 

■ Annihilation ! how it yawns before me ! 

' ^hf^ moment I may drop from thought, from seme. 
The privilege oi angels, and of worms 
An outcast from existence ! and this spirit, 
1 his all-pervading, this all-conscious soul, 
J his particle of energv divine. 
Which travels nature,' flies from star to star. 
And visits gods, and emulates their pow'rs, 
t or ever is extinguish'd. Horror ! Death ! 
^T^^^u^ ^^^^ ^^^<^'^ I fearless once survey'd T— 
Wlren horror universal shall descend. 



-i i HE COMPLAINT. _ SUghl ra\ 

" And boav'n'3 dark concave urn all human race, 

" On that enormous, uiiret'undiiig tomb, 

•' How just this verse ! this monumental sigh.t*» 

Beneath the lumber of demolished worlds, 
Deep in the rubbish (if the general wreck. 
Swept ignominious to the common mass 
Of matter, never dignijied with life, 
Here lie proud rationais ; the sons qfheav'n ! 
The lords of earth ! The property of ivorms ! 
Beings qf.yesterdaif, and noto-morron f 
IVho liv^d in terror, mid in pangs expir''d ! 
All gone to rot in chaos : or, to make 
Their happy transit into blocks or brutes, 
If or longer' sullij their Creator's name. 

Lorenzo, hear, pause, ponder, and pronounce, 
.hwt is this hi;itory ! If such is man, 
Mankind's liistorian, though divine, might weep : 
.Ajid dares Lorezo smile?— I know t!iee proud : 
For once let pride befriend thee ; pride looks pal'^ 
At such a scene, and sighs for something more. 
Amid thy boasts, presumptions, and displays, i 

And art thou then a shadow ? Less than shade *• , I 
A nothing? less than nothing? To have been, 
And not to be, is lower than unborn. 
Art thou ambitious ? Why then make the worm 
Thine equal ? Rims thy taite oi' pleasure high .' 
Why patronise sure dr-ath of ev'ry joy? I 

Charm riches ? Why choose be^rg'ry in the grave, I 
Of ev'ry hope a bankrupt ! and for ever ? 
Ambition, pleasure, avarice, persuade tbee 
To make that world of glory, rapture, wealth, j 

They* lately prov'd thy soul's supreme desire. 

What art thou made of ? Rather how unmade ? 
Great Nature's master-appetite deslroy'd! 
Is endless life, and hapj>iness, despis'd ? 
Or both wish'd, here, where neither can be found? 
Such man's perverse, eternal war with heav'n? 
U.ii-'st thou persist? And is there nought on earth, 
But a long train of transitory forms, 
llisin,^ and breakin'r millicns in an hoiir? 
!>iibbles of a fantastic (ieifcy, blown up 
. snort, and then in cruelty destroy 'd 1 



* InthtShathmght: 



THE INFIDEL RECLAIMED. 125 

6h ! for what crime, unmerciful Lorenzo ! 
Destroys thy scheme the whole of human race ! 
Kind is fell Lucifer, compar'd to thee : 
Oh : spare this waste of being half-divine; 
And vindicate th' economy of heav'n. 

Heav'n is all love ; all joy in giving joy : 
It never had created, but to bless : 
And shall it, then, strike otFthe list oflife, 
A being blest or worthy so to be ? 
Heav'n starts at an annihilating God. 

Is that, all Nature starts at, thy desire? 
Art such a clod to wish tiiyself all clay ? 
What is that dreadful wish ?— The dying groaa 
Of nature, murcierM by the blackest guilt. 
What deadly poison has thy nature drank ? 
To nature undebauch'd no shock so great; 
Nature's rirst wish is endless happiness; 
Annihilation is an after-thought, 
A monstrous wisLi, unborn till virtue dies. 
And oh, what depth of horror lies inclos'd! 
For non-existence no man ever wisti'd, 
But, tirst, he wish'd the Deity destroy'd. 

If SO; what words are daric enough to draw 
Thy picture true ? The darkest are too lair. 
Beneath what baleful planet, in what hour 
Of desperation, by wiiat fury's aid. 
In what infernal posture ol' the soul, 
All hell invited, and all hell in joy 
At such a birth, a birth so near ot kin. 
Did thy foul fancy whelp so black a scheme 
Of hopes abortive, faculties half-blown. 
And deities begun, reduc'd to dust? 

There's nought (thou say'st) but one eternal flux 
Of feeole essences, tumultuous driven 
Thiough time's rough billows into night's abyss. 
Say, in this rapid tide of human ruin. 
Is there no rock, on which man's tossing thought 
Can rest from terror, dare his fate survey, 
And boldly think it something to be born 1 
Amid such hourly wrecks of being fair, 
Is there no central, all-sustaining base, 
All realizfng, all connecting power, 
Which, as it call'd forth all things, can recall, 
And force destruction to refund her spoil? 
Command the grave restore her taken prey ' 
Bid death's dark vale its human harvest yield, 
And earth, and ocean, pay their debt of map. 
True to the sra>d deposit trwstea tXere ? 



'i2i THE COMPLAINT. Mght Vlt. 

Is there no potentate, whose out-stretch'd arm, 
When ripening time calls forth th' appointed hour» 
Pluck'd from foul devastation's lamish'd maw, 
Binds present, past, and future to his throne ? 
His tiironc, hoiv glorious, thus divinely grac'd, 
By perminatina: heinsrs clusfring round ! 
A garland worthy the Divinity ! 
A throne, by Heaven's omnipotence in smiles. 
Built (like a Pharos tow'ring in the waves) 
Amidst immense effusion.-, of his love ! 
An ocean of communicated bliss ! 

An all-prolific, all-preserving God ! 
This were a God indeed. — And such is man, 
As here presum'd : tie rises from his fall. 
Think'st thou Omnipotence a naked root, 
Each blossom fair of Deity destroy'd ? 
Nothing is dead; nav, nothing .bleeps; each soul, 
That ever animated human clay, 
;Kow wakes; is on the wing : And where, O where, 
Will the swarm settle? — When the trumpet's call, 
As sounding brass, collects us, round heaven's throsc 
Conglob'tl, we l)ask in everlasting day, 
(Pateiiial splendour) and adhere for ever. 
Had not the soul this outlet to the skies, 
In this vast vessel of the universe. 
How should we gasp, as in an empty void ! 
How in the pangs of famish'd hope expire ! 

How bright my prospect shines ! How gloomy thine ? 
A trembling world ! and a devouring God ! 
Earth, but the shambles of Omnipotence ; 
Heaven's face all stain'd with causeless massacre* 
Of countless n)illious, born to feel the pang 
Of being lost. Lorenzo, ran it lie ? 
This bids us shudder at tiie thoughts of life. 
Who would te born to such a jthantom world? 
Where nought substantial, but our misery ! 
Where joy (if joy) but heighten.^ our distress, 
So soon to perish, and revive no more ? 
The greater such a joy, the more it pains. 
A world, so far from groat (and yet hov/ great 
It shines to tliee !) there's nothing real in it; 
15eing, a shadow I consciousness a dream ! 
A dream, how dreadful 1 Universal blank 
Before it, and behind'. Poor man, a spark 
From non-existence struck by wrath divine, 
Glilt'ring a moment, nor that moment sure, 
JMidst upper, nether, and surrounding night, 
His sad, sure, sudden, and eternai tomb t 



THE INFIDEL RECLAIMED. i^l 

Lorenzo, dost thou feel these argumeBts? 
Or is there nought but ven<,eance can be felt? 
How hast thou dar'd the Deity dethrone ! 
How dar'd indict liim or a world like this? 
If such the world, creation was a crime ; 
For what is crime, but cause of misery 1 
Retract, blasphemer! and unriddle this, 
Of endless arguments, above, below, 
Without us, and wjthin, the short result— 
•' If man's immortal, there's aGod in heaven." 

But whererbre such redundancy? such waste 
Of argument! One sets my soul at rest ! 
One obvious, and at hand, and, Oh !— at heart 
So just the skies, Philander's life so pain'd. 
His neart so pure; that, or succeeding scenes 
Have palms to give, or ne'er had he been born; 

" What an old tale is this I" Lorenzo cries. 
I grant this argument is old ; but truth 
No years impair; and had not this been true, 
Thou never had'st despis'd it for its age. 
Truth is immortal as thy soul; and fable 
As fleeting as tiiy joys : Be wise, nor make 
Heaven's highest blessing, vengeance ! be wise ? 
JNor make a cm-se of immortality. 

Say, know'st thou what it is? Or what thou art? 
Know'st thou the importance of a soul immortal ? 
Behold this midnight glory : worlds on worlds ! 
Amazing pomp ! Redouble this amaze ! 
Ten thouijand add ; and tu ice ten thousand more ; 
Then weigh the whole ; one soul outweighs them Hk 
And calls th' astonishing magni licence 
Of unintelligent creation poor. 
For tills, believe not me ; no man believe; 
Trust not in words, but deeds ; and deeds no lesg 
Than those of the Supreme ; nor his, a few ; 
Consult them all; consulted, all proclaim 
Thy soul's importance : Tremble at thyself; 
For whom Omnipotence has wak'd so long : 
Has vak'd, and work'd, for ages; from the birth 
Of nature to this unbelieving hour. 

In this small province of bis vast domain 
(All nature bow, while I pronounce his name.') 
What has God done, and not for this sole end, 
To rescue souls from death ? the soul's high prise 
Is writ in all the conduct of the skies. 
The soul's high price is the creation's key, 
Unlocks its mysteries, and naked lays 
The geniufle cavise of ev'ry deed sUyioe : 



12» ^HE COMPLAINT. Night Vlt. 

That is the chain of ages, which maintains 
Their obvious correspondence, and unites 
Most distant periods in one bless'd design : 
That, is the mighty hinge, on which have turn'd 
All revolutions, whether we regard 
The nat'ial, civil, or religious world; 
The former two, but servants to the third : 
To that their duty done, they both expire, 
Tiieir mass new-cast, forgot their deeds renown'd; 
And an;/els ask, " Where once they shone so fair 'J" 

To lift us from this abject, to sublime ; 
This flux, to permanent; this dark, to day; 
This I'oul, to pure; this turbid to serene; 
This mean, to mighty !— for this glorious end 
Th' Almighty, rising, his long sabbath broke ! 
The world was made; was ruin'd; was restor'd; 
Laws from the skies were publish'd ; were repeal'd; 
On earth, kines, kingdoms, ro>e; kings, kingdoms, fell; 
Fam'd sages Ughted up the pagan world; 
Prophets from Sion darted a keen glance 
Through distant age; saints travail'd; martyrs bled; 
By woiider:^ sacred nature stood controll'd; 
Th6 livin: were translated ; dead were rais'd ; 
Angels, and more than angels, came from heaven ; 
\nd. Oh ! for this, des ended lower still; 
Guilt was hell's gloom ; astonish'd at his guest 
For one short moment Lucifer ador'd; 
Lorenzo! au't wilt thou do less?— For this, 
Th:iJ hallow'd paee, fools sco.Fat, was inspir'd. 
Of all ti.ese truths thrice-venerable co ie ! 
Deista perform your quarantine ' and then 
Fail prostrate ere you touch it, lest you die. 

No'r less intensely bent internal powers 
To mar, than those of light, this end to gain. 
O what a scene is here !— Lorenzo, wake, 
B.ise to the thought; exert, expand thy soul 
To ta'.e the vast idea : It denies 
All el.se tlie name of great. Two warring worlds 1 
Not Europe against Afric ; warring worlds. 
Of more than mortal ' mounted on the wing ! 
On ardent wings of energy, and zeal, 
High hovVinf;: o'er this little brand of strife ! 
This suMunary ball— But strii'e, for what ? 
In their own cause conaicting? No; in thine, 
In man's. His single int'rest blows the flame ; 
His tne sole stake ; his fate the trumpet sounds. 
Which kindles war immortal. How it burns ! 
Tumultuous swarms of deities in arms ! 



THE INFIDEL RECLAIMED. m 

Force, force opposing, till the waves run hi"h 
And tempest nature's universal sphere ' 

Nich opposites eternal, stedfast, stern, 
buch loes implacable, are good, and ill; rfhpm 

\et man, vain man, would mediate peace heZV^n 
Think not this fiction : " There was war in heav'n " 
From heaven's high crystal mountain, where it W 
Th' Almighty's out-stretch'd arm took down his bow ' 
And shot his indignation at the deep : '^' 

Ke-thunder'd hell, and darted all her fires — 
And seems the stake of little moment stiirf 

HP .iir« ^'1".?°' T^^ '"'S'J' ^^"^'*^ the storm ' 
He sleeps —And art thou shock'd at mysteries ' 
J he greatest. Thou. How dreadful to reflect " 
\\ hat ardour, care, and counsel, mortals cause 
In breasts divine ! How little in their own ! 

W here'er I turn, how new proofs pour upon me' 
How happdy this wondrous view supports 
My former argument ! How strongly strikes 
Immortallife'. full demonstration", here ! 
\\ ny this exertion ? Why this strange regard 
F rom heay'n's Omnipotent indulg'd to man ' 
Jiecause, in man, the glorious, dreadful poW'r. 
Extremeiy to be pain'd, or blest, for ever 
duration gires importance ; swells the price 
An angel, ifa creature of a day, * 

W hat would he be ? A trirte of no wei"-ht • 
3r stand, or fall; no matter which; he's gone 
Becau.se immortal, therefore is indulg'd 
1 liJS strange regard of deities to dust 
Hence, heav'n looks down on earth with all her cvfis - 
«ence, the soul's mighty moment in her sight- ^ ' 
aence, ev'ry soul has partisans above, ' 

l^ndev ry thought a critic in the skies • 
ience clay, vile clay ! has angels for its guard 
\nd ev'ry guard a passion for his charee • 
jence from all age, the cabinet divine 
ias held high counsel o'er the fate of man 

I nL.^''^ ^^^ *'^1"'^^ t'"'^^ gracious counsels iiid 
^ngei, undrew the curtain of the throne, 

k.rid Providence came forth to meet mankind- 

II various mode? Of emphasis and awe 

le spoke his will and trembling nature heard: 
le spoke It loud, in thunder and in storm 

nifh''.' ^^T ^^"^^ •* ^^'ho«e cloud-cover'd height 
^nd shaken basis, ow n'd the present God : ^ ' 

*^ Erad. six. 16, 18. 
F 2 



'i^9 THE COMPLAINT. ^'ight FN 

Witness, ye billows ?•* whose returning tide, 

Breaking the chain that fasten'd it in air, 

Swept Egypt, and her menaces, to hell ! 

Witness, ye flames th' Assyrian tyrant blewf 

To sevenfold rage, as impotent, as strong; 

And thou, earth ! witness, whose expanding jaws 

Clos'd o'er presumption's sacrilegious sons :t 

Has not each element in turn subscril.'d 

The soul's high price, and sworn it to tlie wise ? 

Has not flame, ocean, ether, earthijuake, strove 

To strike this truth through adamantine man '! 

Ifnotali-a lamant, Lorenz* ! hear; 

All is delusion. Nature is wrapt up. 

In tenlold night, from reason's keenest eye ; 

There's no consistence, meaning, plan, orend. 

In all beneath the sun, in all above, 

(As far as man can penetrate) or heav'n 

Is an immense, inestimable prize; 

Or all is nothing;, ur that prize is all. — 

And shall each toy be still a match for heav'n ? 

And full equivalent for groans below ? 

Who would not give a trifle to prevent 

What he would give a thousand worlds to cure ? 

Lorenzo, thou hast seen (if thine, to see) 
All nature, and her Goo (by nature's course, 
And nature's course coctroll'd) declare for me ; 
The skies above proclaim " Immortal man !" 
And " Wan immortal !" all below resounds. 
The world's a system of theology. 
Head by the greatest strangers to the schools; 
If honest, learn'd ; and sages o'er a plough. 
Is not, liOrenzo, then impos'd on tiiee 
This hard alternative; or, to renounce 
Thy reason, and thy sense; or, to f^elieve? 
What then is unbelief? 'Tis an exploit ; 
A strenuous enterprise : to gain it, man 
Mu^t turst through ev'ry bar of common sense, 
Of common shame, magnanimously wrong. 
And what rewards the sturdy combatant? 
His prize, repentance ; infamy his crown. 

But wherefore lulamy ? — For want of faith, 
Down the steep precipice of wrong he slides : 
There's nothing to support him in the right 
Faith in the future wanting, is, at least 
In cm' ryo, ev'ry wea':ness, ev'ry guilt; 

* Exod. xiv. 37. t ^«K. iii^S- t J^'wib. xvi»32» 



THE INFIDEL RECLAIMED. IJ 

Am] strong temptation ripens it to birth. 
If this life's gain invites hiin to the deed, 
Why not his country sold, his fathers slain? 
'Tis virtue to pursue our good supreme ; 
And his supreme, his only good is here. 
Ambition, av'rice, by the wise disdain'd, 
Is perfect wisdom, while mankind are fools, 
And tliink a turf, or tomh-stone, covers all : 
These find employment, and provide for sense 
A richer pasture, and a larger range ; 
And sense by right divine ascends the throne, 
When virtue's prize and prospect are no more : 
Virtue no more we think the will of heav'n. 
Would heav'n quite beggar virtue, if belov'd : 

" Has virtue charms ?"— I grant her heav'nly fair 
But if unportion'd, all will int'rest wed; 
Though that our admiration, this our choice. 
The virtues grown on immortality; 
That root destroy'd they wither and expire. 
A Deity believ'd, will nought avail ; 
Rewards, and punishments, make Godador'd; 
And liopes and fears give conscience all her poiv'r. 
As in the dying parent dies the child, 
Virtue, with immortality, expires. 
Who tells me he denies his soul immortal, 
Whate'er his boast, has told me, he's a knave. 
His duty 'tis, to love himself alone ; 
iVor care, though mankind perish, if he smiles. 
Who thinks ere long the man shall wholly die, 
Is dead already, nought but brute survives. 
And are there such ?— Such candidates there are 
For more than death ; for utter loss of being, 
Being, the basis of the Deity ! 
Ask you the cause '? — The cause they will not tell ; 
Nor need they : Oh, the sorceries of sense ! 
They work this transformatinn on the soul. 
Dismount her like the serpent at the fall, 
Dismount her from her native wing (which soar'd 
Ere-while ethereal heights) and thirow her down, 
To lick the dust, and cra%vl, in such a thought. 

Is it in words to paint you; O ye iall'n ! 
Fall'n from the wings of reason, and of hope '. 
Erect in stature, prone in appetite ! 
Patrons of pleasure, posting into pain '. 
Lovers of argument, averse to sense ! 
Boasters of liberty, fast bound in chains ! 
Lords of the wide creation, and the shame f 
More 3euseless than th' irrations^ls you scorn ! 



132 THE COMPLAINT, Night VII. 

More base than those you rule ! Than those you pity 

Far more undone ! O ye most infamous 

Of beings, from superior dignity ! 

Deepest in wo from means of boundless bliss ! 

Ye curst by blessings infinite ! Because 

Most higlily favour'd, most profoundly lost ! 

Ye motley mass of contradiction strong ? 

And are you, too, convinc'd, your souls fly ofT 

In exhalation soft, and die in air, 

From the full flood of evidence against you? 

In the coarse drudgeries and sinks of sense, 

Yoursouls have quite worn out the make of hca?'*/ 

By vice new-cast, and creatures of your own : 

But though you can deform, you can't destroy : 

To curse, not uncreate, is all your pow'r. 

Lorenzo, this black brotherhood renounce; 
Renounce St. Evrcmont,* and read iSt. Paul. 
Ere wrapt by miracle, by reason wing'd, 
His mounting mind made long abode in heav'n. 
This is free thinking, unconfin'd to parts, 
To send the soul on curious travel bent. 
Through all the provinces of human thought; 
To dart her flight, through the whole sphere of maa ? 
Of this vast universe to make the tour; 
In each recess of space, and time, at home; 
Familiar with their wonders; diving deep, 
And, like a prince of lioundless int'rests there, 
Still most ambitious of the most remote ; 
To look on truth unbroken, and entire ; 
Truth in the system, tiie full orb ; where truths 
By truths etilighten'd, and sustain'd, atVord 
An arch-like stron;; foundation, to support 
Th' incumbent weight of absolute, complete 
Conviction ; here tlie more we press, we stand 
Moi-e firm ; who most examine most believe 
Parts; like half-sentences, confound! The whole 
Conveys the sense, and God is understood; 
Who not in Iragments writes to human race ; 
Read his whole volume, Sceptic ! then reply. 

This, this, is thinking free, a thought that grasps 
Beyond a grain, and looks beyond an hour. 
Turn up thine eye, survey this midnight scene ; 
What are earth's kingdoms, to you boundless orbs, 
Of human souls, one day, the destin'd range ? 
And what yon boundless orbs, to godlike man? 
Those nuni'rous worlds that throng the firmament, 

* An IiiMd miUu 



THE INFIDEL RECLAIMED. p. 

4Bd ask more space in heaven, can roll at lar<^P 
[n man's capacious thought, and still leafe romH 

or ampler orbs ; for new creations, there 
^au such a soul contract itself, or gdpe 
i point of no dimension, of no wei-ht ■' 
ir,?" V!^ °P^^ : ^^^ '^"^'^^ is suchli point • 

R^w^*^'" ,P°'"*' ''«^^ '^™^" a part en laves • 
Vhv not'? fi'-f ^h'"' '-of ?«thing shall I sayl 

;Oud calls my soul, and utters all 1 sin^ 

low the world falls to pieces round about us ' 

md leaves us in a ruin of our iov • ' 

^hat says this transportation of my friends » 

^r '""^ IV^ ^^'^ P'^^e ^J^'^^e iSw they dwell 

tern tT" •^.IV^''''^"^?-^ ^P°^' ^^^^ lea^e'^so poor, 
.ternitj a \ ast ocean lies before thee : - 

K^/fh! •^',^"''^"^'"' ^^'y Clarissa sails, 
ne lh.v mind sea-room ; keep it wide of earth 
hat rock 01 soul, immortal; cut thy cord ' 
vP^thT'^'":' ^P'-ead thy sails; cai ev'ry wind • 
■Two^^''.^^^P?•'^"'^=*^' ""ake the land o/life ' 
Two kinds ot life has double-natur'd man 
d two of death; the last far more severe' 
i.e animal is nurtur'd by the sun- 
hrives on his bounties, triumphs in his beaiis 
ife rational subsists on higher food •' 

'hpn'? J"?* '" ^'t ^^^"^^ ^■'^" "'ade the day. 

hen we leave that sun, and are left by tiui 
, lie fate of all who die in stubborn guilt) ' 
:is lit er darkness; strictly douhle'death. 

e sink by no judicial stroke of heaven, 

nJf'n^ n ''°'"''^ ' '^^ '"''^ ^^ plummets fall, 
lice Gnd or man, must alter, ere they meet, 
.nee light and darkness Mend not in one sphere), 
i. manifest, Lorenzo! who must change. ^ '^ 

ame not the bowels of the Deity : ■- 

an shall be bless'd, as far as man permits. 
•It man alone, all rationals, heaven arms 
ith an Illustrious, but tremendous power 
counteract its own most gracious ends ; 
.^'!!ot°^^'■'?^"^<^^ssity,not choice; 

t n-?.JvJf '^"•*'''' "'^^ ■'*"S^^«' ^e'-^ «" more, 
^p-issne engines, void of praise, or blarne. ^ 
nature rational implies the po«-er ' 



^.^ THE COMPLAINT. Ifkhl FJil 

Of '^''■'no- ble't, or wretched, as we please ; 

EKe'idie reason wouUi huve nought to do; 

An<l he that would be barr'd capacity 

Of pain, courts incapacity of bliss. 

Heaven wills our happiness, allows our doom; 

Invites us ardently, but not compels; 

HeAven but persuades ; almighty man decrees ; 

Man is the maker of imnriortjil lates, 

Man lal Is by man, if finally he falls; 

And fall he must, who learns from death alone i 

^ThP dreadful secret-That he lives for ever. ; 

Why this to thee?-Thee yet perhaps in doubt 
Of sef ond life ? But wherefore doubtful still 1 
Kternal life is nature's ardent wish : 
\iMiat ardently we wish, we soon believe; 
ThV tardy faith declares that wish destroy'd : 
Wifat has destroy'd itI-Shall I tell thee wMiat : 
When fear'd tlie future, 'tis no longer wished; 
Zd when unwish'd, we strive to disbelieve. , 

♦' Thus infidelity our ;iuilt betrays. | 

Kor that Uie sole detection ! blush. Lorenzo, ! 

liliish for hypocrisy, if not for guilt. 

TlefuU-T-e fear'd?- An infidel l-and ear ! 

J4ar what? a .Iream? a fable ? How thy dread, 

Un JiUiiis? evidence, and therefore strong, 

Art'ords my cause an undesign'd support ? 

How disbelief aWrms, what it denies 

u It unawares, asserts immortal life. — 

Hurnri^in-^ '• Infidelity turns out 

A creed, and a coniesion of our sins : 

Anostates, thus, are orthodox divmes. 
Cren/o, with Lorenzo da h no more : 

"Nor lonjrer a transparent vizor wear. 

Think'st thou, relifiion only has the mask? 

S:^t^n!;'Sew^rraSl'S^"Stom,iaiL ^ 
?vT"iiiteJSy thought (thought -HI intr" ^«) 
T ike him they serve, they tremble, and be.le^t. 
Is there hypocrisy so loul as this .' 
So fatal to the weliare of tne world? 
WhS detestation, what contempt, their due ! 
An 1 if unnaid, oe thank'd for their escape 



THE IxNFIDEL RECLAIMED. iji, 

5ut shall I dare confess the dire result ? 
'.an thy proud reason brook so Mack a l.rand'' 
rom purer manners, to suUimer faith, 
s nature's unavoidaUe ascent; 
in Ijonest Deist, where the Gospel shines, 
latur'd to nobler, in the ChrisUan ends, 
/hen that bless'd change arrives, e'en cast a^ide 
h!S song superQuous ; life immortal strikes 
onvictjon, in a flood of liijht divine. 
.Christian dwells, like* Uriel, in the sun. 
jendia;i evidence puts doubt to flight; 
nd ardent hope anticipates the skies. ' 
f that !..right sun, Lorenzo, scale the sphere ! 
riseasy; it invites thee; it descends 
rona heaven to woo, and waft thee whence it came 
.ead and revere the sacred page; a pa^-e • ' 

^here triumphs immortality; a pape ° 
^hich not the whole creation could produce • 
'hich not the conflagration shall destroy ■ ' 
.nature's ruins not one letter lost : ' 
^is printed in the mind of god.s for ever. 
In proud disdain of what e'en gods adore, 
ost smile ?— Poor wretch ; thy guardian angel we<-Ds 
pgels, and men, assent to v. hat 1 sing; "* 

its smile, and thank me for my luichiLht dream 
ow vicious hearts fume frenzy to the brain ' 
irts push us on to pride, and pride to shame • 
jrt ini^delity is wit's cockade, ' 

grace the brazen brow that braves the skies 
r loss of being, dreadfully secure. ' 
)renzo ! it thy doctrine wins the day, 

nd drives my dreams, defeated, from the field- 
this IS all, if earth's the final scene, ' 

tke heed ; stand fast ; be sure to be a knave • 
knave in grain ; ne'er deviate to the right: ' 
ould'stthou be good— How iuiinite thy loss! 
ult only makes annihilation gain ! 
3st scheme ! which life deprives of comfort, death 
hope; and which vice only recommends, 
so, where, infidels, your bait thrown out 

1 catch weak converts? Where vour lofty boa't 
zeal for virtue, and of love to man ? 
niliilation ! I confess, in these. 

iVhat can reclaim you? Dare I hope profound 
ilosophers the converts of a song? 

* See MUtwi's Parodist Lost 



136 THE COMPLAINT. Night FIl} 

Yet knov/, its* title flatters you, not me; 
Your- be the praise to make my title good; 
Mine, toble;^s heav'n, and triumph in your praise. 
But since so pestilential your disease, 
Though sov'rei?n is the med'cine I prescribe, 
As yet, I'll neither triumph nor despair : 
But hope, ere lojig, my midnight dream will wake 
Your hearts, and teach your wisdom — to be wise : 
For why should souls immortal, made for bliss. 
E'er wish (and wish in vain !) that souls could die ? 
What ne'er can die, Oh ' grant to live ; and crowa 
The wish, and aim, and laljourof the skies; 
Incrpase, and enter on the joys of Heav'n : 
Thus shall m> title pass a sacred seal, 
Receive an imprimature from above. 
While angels shout — An Infidel reclaim'd ! 

To close, l.orenzo ! spiteof all my pains, A 

Still seems it strange, that thoushouldstlive for evert 
It is less strange, that thou shouldst live at all I ' 

This is a miracle ; and that no more. 
Who gave beginning, can exclude an end. 
Deny thou art, then, doubt if thou shalt be. 
A miracle with miracles inclos'd. 
Is man : and starts his faith at what is strange? 
What less than wonders, from the "wonderful; 
What less than miracles, from God, can flow J 
Admit a God — that mystery supreme! 
That cause uncans'd ! All other wonders cease; 
j^othing is marvellous for him to do : 
Deny him — All is mystery besides ; 
Millions of mysteries ; ea'ch darker far 
Than that thy wisdom would, unwisely, shun. j 

If weak thy faith, why choo.'^e the harder side ? | 

We nothing know, but what is marvellous ; 
Yet what is marvellous, we <;an't believe. 
So weak our reason, and so great our God. 
What most surprises in the sacred page. 
Or full as strange, or .stranger, must be true. 
Faith is not reason's labour; but repose. 

To faith and virtue, wliyso backward, ma.i I 
From hence: — The present strongly strikes us all 
The future, faintly : can we, then, be men? 
If men, Lorenzo! the reverse is right. 
Reason is man's peculiar : sense, the brute's. 
The present is the scanty realm of sense ; 
The future, reason's empire uucoufin'd: 

^ The Infidel Reclamed 



THE IWPIDEL RBCLAIMED. 137 

a that expending all her godlike pow'r, 
■h!fi1"'',^T"''^^' expatiates, trhimphs, there • 

^ i.e a man ;-and strive to he a sod. 

* or what ? (thou sa vs't)— to riamp the ioys of life ' 
hat tvr^rf k'"^ '""' substance to thy joy! ^ ' 

hat t^> rant. hope, mark how she domineers- 
lehids ..s quit realities for dreams !"'"^^^^' 
ifet.v, and peace, for hazard and alarm • 
hat t.yraut o'er the tyrants of the soul, 
e.^icjs ambition quit its taken prize, 
.urn the luxuriant branch onwh.ch it sits, 

SS;nS7,"fnifr"1'^*° 'f^""S "t distant game; 
la plunge lu toils and dangers— lor renege 

mZiT^'T"" ^"'' o' thin.£s, when gain'd, 
little moment, and as little stay, 

hJTK^^^V'^^ ^"'^ "3"'^ers into joys : 
.Heave';ini^[.MT'R-^\'^L^'^ "°^"'"? can defeat, 

s oast m«n' '^ ■ ^'" ^°P? °* '^«"">ncss Wi.9 ! 
ThirhnnT- ' P^T'-to paint it: time'., to close ! 
This hope IS earth's most estimable prize : 

ne oTaM^r'""' ""^'"«° ■-'''' than man: 
)pe, olall passjons, most l.e.riends us here- 
ssions oi prouder name ' efricn'i us less. ' 
m^MUp'",.^"'^: ^"^ transport has her death; 
pe, like a cordial, innocent, though strong, 
n s heart at on^e. inspirits an.i serenes;" 
.r makes him pay his wisdom ior his ioys ; 
l.^W'^^^P^^^ent^tate can safely bear, 
ta Ui to the irame ! and vigour to the mind! 
lOj attemper'd! a chastis'd delight ! 
ie the fair summer-evening, mild and sweet! 
.s man's lull cup ; his paradise below ! 
i blest liereafter, then, or hop'd, or ;.^ain'd. 
ill;— ourAyholeofhappines:^; full proof, 
hose no trivial or inglorious theme! 
d'< now, ye foes to song ! (well-meanin? men, 
ough quite forgotten* half your Ri' le's r.rai4 'i 
portant truths, in spite of verse, may pfeie! "' 
ne minds you praise , nor can you praise too much 
here is weight in an eternity. ' 

: the grave l isten ;— and be graver still. 

*= The poetical parts of it. 



THE 

COMPLAINT. 

NIGHT VIII. 
VIRTUE'S APOLOGY: 

OE, 

THE MAN OF THE WORLD ANSWEREi>^ 
In which are considered, • 



Tht Love of thU Life ; the Ambition and Pleasure, nHli 
Vie Hit and Jf'isdom of the fVorld. 



And hr.s all nature, then, espons'd my part? 
Have I brib'd lieav'n, and earth, to plead against tbet-, 
And is thy soul immortal ?— What remains ? 
All, all, Lorenzo :— Make immortal, blest. 
Unblest imniortalo ! What can shock us more? 
And vet Lorenzo still affects the world; 
Ttiere, stows his treasure: thence, his title draws. 
Man of the world ! (lor such wouldst thou be call'd) 
And art thou proud of that inglorious style ? 
Vroud of reproach 1 For a reproach it was, 
In ancient days; and Christian— in an age. 
When men were men, and not asham'd of heav'Q, 
Fir''.! their ambition, as it crown'd their joy. 
Sprinkled with dews from the Castalian font, 
Fain would I re-baptize thee, and confer 
A purer spirit and a nobler name. 

Thy fond attachments, fatal and inflam'd, 
?oint out my path, and dictate to my song : 
To thee, the world how fair ! how strongly striJttt 
Ajnbitfon ! and gav pleasure stronger stiil ! 



VIRTUE'S APOLOGY 129 

by triple bane ! the triple bolt, that lays 
liy vii tue dead ! be these my triple theme; 
or shall thy wit, or wisdom, be forgot. 
Common the theme: not so the song; if she 
y son.?; invokes, Urania, deigns tosmiJe. 
16 charm that chains us to the -norld, her foe, 
she dissolves, the man of earth, at once, 
arts from his trance, and sighs 'brother scenes; 
enes, where these sparks o^night, these stars, shall 
inumber'd suns, (for all things, as they are, [shine 
le blest behold :) and, in one glory, pour 
icir blended blaze on man's astoiiish'd sight : 
blaze— the least illustrious object there. 
Lorenzo ! since eternal is at hand, 
swallow time's ambitions: as the vast 
vlathan, the bubtiies vain, that ride 
gh on the foaming billow ; what avail 
;h titles, high descent, attainmi^nts high, 
nattain'd our highest? O Lorenzo ! 
nat lofty thoughts, these elements a! ove, 
?.at tow'ring hopes, what sallies from the sun, 
lat gvand surveys of destiny divine, 
d pompous presage of unfathom'd fate, 
3;)ld roll in bosoms, where a spirit burns, 
und for eternity? In i'Osoms read 
Him, who foibles in archangels sees ! 
human hearts he bends a jealous eye, 
d marks, and in heav'n's register inrolls 
e rise and progress ol" each option there ; 
bed to doomsday ! that the paj.e unfolds, 
d spreads us to the gaze of gods an'! men. 
Ind what an option, O Lorenzo ! thine ? 
"s world ! and this, unrivall'd by the skies ! 
orld, where lust of pleasure, grandeur, gold, 
ree daemons that divide its realms between thena, 
th strokes alternate bullet to and fro 
n's restless heart, their sport, their flying ball ; 
1, -with tiie giddy circle, sick and tir'd, 
)ants for peace, and drops into despair. 
;h is the world Lorenzo sets above 
at glorious promise, angels were esteem'd 
mean to bring ; a promise, their ador'd 
scendedto communicate, and press, 
counsel, miracle, life, death, on man. 
:h is the world Lorenzo's wisdom woos, 
d on its thorny pillow seeks repose ; 
)il!ow, which, like opiates ill prepar'd, 
oxicates, but not composes ; tilis 



Ufl THE COMPLAINT. mgtUVI 

T?wv!''^'°'?*''-^ ™'"^ ^'^^^ gay chimeras, 

Al the wild trash of sleep, without the ren ; 

What unfeign'd travel, and ^\ hat dreams of ioy r 

How frail men, things! how momentary both! 1 
Fantastic chase, of shadows hunting shades! I 

1 he gay, the busy, equal, though unlike : 
Kqual m wi .idom, differently wise ! 
J hroushflovv'ry meadows, and through dreary wast( 
One busUmg, and one dancing, into death 
i here's not a day, but, to the man of thou'-'ht 
Betrays some secret, that throws new reproach 
On life, and makes him sick of seeing more 
^-Ihe scenes of luis'ness tell us-- What are men •". 
P/.e scenes ol pleasure-" What is all beside •" ! 
i here, others we despise ; and here, ourselves 
Ami i disgust eternal, dwells dehVht ^ 
"i'ls approbation strikes the strings of joy 

Wiiat wondrous prize has kindled this career 
Stuns with the din, and chokes us with the du-^t 
On ]j;e s gay stage, one inch above the grave '' ' 
1 he proud run up and down in quest of eyes'- 
The sensual m pursuit of something worse- ' 
The grave, of gold; the politic, of power;' 
And all, of other butterflies, as vain ! 
As eddies dr:iw things frivolous, and li"-ht, I 

How 13 man's heart by vanity drawn iif- ' 1 

On the swi.t circle of returning toys • ' J 

Whirl'd, straw-like, round and round, and then ill 
Where say delusion darkens to despair ! f-ulnli'i 1 
" This is a beaten trHCk."-Is this a track ^ 1 
fliiouid not be beaten ? Never beat enouiih, 1 

iu", w""'^?''. ^^^?* ^\^ ^'■"tf^s it would inspire. \ 
Shall truth be siJent because folly frowns '' 1 

Turnthe world's history; >vbat find we there 
But fortune's sports, or nature's cruel claims ' 
Or woman'.s artifice, or man's reven^-e 
And endless inhumanities on man ' '^ * 
Fame's trumpet seldom sounds, but, like the kc' 
It brings sad tidings ! how it hourly blows 
RIan's misadventures round the list'ning world' 
Man IS the tale of narrative old time- 
Sad tale ; which high as paradise begins - 
As if, the toll of travel to delude, ' 

From stage to stage, in his eternal round, 
Tne days, his dau-hters, as they spin our hour* 
On fortune s wheel, where accident untbought 
0!t, in a moment, snaps life's strongest thread? 
£.acft, m ixts turfl, £oa:e tragic story i^, 



l^IRTUE'S APOLOev. ,4j 

ts httie joys go out by one and ono 

xhdl'd, ordaai'd to swim its destinM h^ 
1 am.-ient air, then mp / nL T- ^ ^"^^ 

jere both eternal, soJid Thnn f h"^ *^^^ 
I farther froa tiieir wishes thaa before : 



/ 



.U2 THE COMPLAINT. Nisht rUI. 

All, more oi* less, against each other dash, 
To mutual hurt, by gusts of passion driven. 
And suff'ring more from folly than from fate. 
Ocean ! thou dreadful and tumultuous home 
Of dangers, at eternal war with man ! 
Death's capital, where most he dommeers, 
With all his chosen terrors frowmng round, 
(Though lately feasted high at Albion's* cost) 
Wide-op'ninz, and loud-roaring still for more . 
Too faithful mirror ! how dost thou reflect , 

The melancholy face of human life ! 
The strong resemblance tempts me farther still : 
And haply. Britain may be deeper struck 
By moral truth, in such a mirror seen, 
Which nature holds for ever at her eye. 

Self-flatter'd, unexperienc'd, high in hope. 
When young, with sanguine cheer, and streamers gaj 
We cut our cable, launch into the world. 
And fondly dream each wind and star our Ineod ; 
AH, in some darling enterprise embark'd: 
But where is he can fathom its event ! 
A.mid a multitude of artless hands, 
Ruin'* sure perquisite ! her lawful prize . 
Some steer aright; but the black Wast blows hard 
And nulfs them wide of hope : with hearty of proof, 
Full a-^ainst wind and tide, some win their way ; 
And when strong etlbrt has deserv'd the port, 
And tu^ir'd it into view, 'tis won! 'tis lost. 
Though strong their oar, still stronger is their fate : 
They strike : and, while they triumph, they expire. 
In stress of weather most ; some sink outright ; i 

O'er them, and o'er their names, the billows close; 
To-morrow knows not they were ever born. 
Others a short memorial leave behind. 
Like a flag floating, when the bark's ingulph d; 
It floats a moment and is seen no more. 
One Caesar lives; a thousand are forgot. 
How few beneath auspicious planets born, 
(Darlin<'S of Providence ! fond fate's elect .) 
With swelling sails make good the promis d port, 
With all their wishes frieghted'. yet e'en these, 
Freighted with all their wishes, soon complain. i 
Free^from misfortune, not from nature free. 
They still are men : ani w-hen is man secure . 
As fatal time, as storm ! the rush of years 
Beats down their strength : their numberless escapr 



* Mmiral Balchtn, frc. 



: 



VIRTUE'S APOLOGY. 143; 

Ji ruin en J : And now, their proud success 
iut plants new terrors on the victor's brow • 

?hp1r ItV'' ^^^* "J^ ''°''^^' J"^t ™^^e their own, 
I heir nests so deeply down'd, and built so hi-h ! 
roo low they build, who build beneath the stars. 
^ Wo then apart (if wo apart can be 
rom mortal man) and fortune at our nod 
I'lfcP^' • rj'^ \S^^^^ ■ triumphant ! and august ! 
V hat are they ?-The most happy (stran-e to say 1} 
^onvince me most of human misery : -"'"'> -^ 
Toi ^'■'^ they ! Smiling wretches of to-morrow ! 

'h^frTrl'^M ''' ^l?' *^^" ^'" ^''^i'" slave can be; 
1 eir treach'rous blessings, at the da.y of need, 
;ike other faathless friends, unmask, and sling: 
hen, what provoking indigence in wealth ! 
/hat aggravated impotence in power ! 
!igh titles, then, what insult of their pain ! 
that sole anchor, equal to the waves, 
nmortal hope ! defies not the rude storm, 
akes comfort from the foaming billow's rage,- 
nd makes a welcome harbour of the tomb 
Is this a sketch of what thy soul admires ' 
But here (thou say'st) the miseries of life 
Are huddled in a group. A more distinct 
Survey, perhaps, might bring thee better newft'» 
Dokon lile's stages : They speak plainer still : 
he plainer they, the deeper wilt thou sigh. 
)ok on thy lovely boy ; in him behold 
he best that can befall the best on earth • 
he boy has virtue by his mother's side : 
es, on Florello look : a father's heart 
tender, though the man's is made of stone • 
le truth through such a medium seen may make 
ipression deep, and fondness prove thy frienOf 
ofello, lately cast on this rude coast 
helpless infant: now a heedless child; 
) poor Clarissa's throes, thy care succeeds- 
re full of love, and yet severe as hate ! * 
er thy soul's joy how oft thy fondness frowns! 
jediul austerities his will restrain ; 
thorns fence in the tender plant from harm. 
! yet, his reason cannot go alone : 
t asks a sterner nurse to lead it on, 
s little heart is often terrified; 
le blush of morning, in his cheek, turns pale • 
\ pearly dew-drop trembles in his eye ; 
IS harmless eye ! and drowns an angel thetc. 
ji : what avails his ianoceoce 1 Thelask 



lU THE COMPLAIN'T. Xighi rill 

Injoin'd must discipline his early pow'rs ; 
He learns to sigh, ere he is known to sin ; 
Guiltless, and sad ! A wretch before the fall ! 
How cruel this ' more cruel to lorbear. 
Our nature such, with necessary pains 
We purchase prospects of precarious peace: 
Though not a father, this might steal a sigh. 

Suppose him disciplin'd aright (if not, 
'Twill sink our poor account to poorer still;) 
Ripe from the tutor, proud of li!»erty, 
He leaps inclosure, bounds into the world ; 
The world is taken after ten years toil, 
Like ancient Troy ; and all its joys his owd- 
Alas ! the world's a tutor more severe ; 
Its lessons hard, and ill deserve his pains : 
Unteaching all his virtuous nature taught. 
Or books (fair virtue's advocates !) inspir'd. 

For who receives him into public life 1 
Men of the world, tlie terrae-filial breed, 
Weclome the modest stran'ier to their sphere, 
(Which glitter'd long, at distance in his sight) 
And, in their hospitable arms inclose : 
Men, WHO think nought so strong of the romance, 
So rank knight-errant, as a real friend : 
ftlen, that ai't up to reason's goldtn rule. 
All weakness of adcction quite subdu'd : 
Men, that would blush at being thought sincere,, 
And feign for glory the few faults they want; 
That love a lie, w here truth would pay as well ; 
As if, to them, vice shone her own reward. 

Loren/o ! canst thou bear a shocking sight? 
Such, for Florello's sake, 'twill now appear : 
See. the steel'd files of season'd veterans, 
Train'd to the world, in burnish'd falsehood bright; 
Deep in the fatal stratagems of peace : 
All soft sensation, in the throng rubb'd off: 
All their keen purpose, in politeness sheath'd : 
His friends eternal — during interest : 
His foes implacable — when worth their while : 
At war with every welfare, but their own: 
As wise as Lucifer ; and half as good : 
And by whom none, but Lucifer can gain — 
J<al:ed, through these (so common fate ordains) 
Naked, of heart, his cruel course he runs, 
StimK out of all, most amiable in life, 
Prompt truth, and open thought, and smiles unfeijn' ; 
Aft'ection, hs his species, wide diffus'd : 



YIP.TUE'S APOLQGr 

Noye presumptions to mankind's renown • 
lnj.'enuous trust, and confidence of love 

ihese claims to joy (if mortals joy m'j<rht clalm^ 

?rom S^'.n' """^y " '^'^h' ti" time, an?pS ' 
t ion tiie slow mistress of this school, ex-per encP 
Ad her assistant, pausing, pale distrust? '"' 

P i'chase a dear-bought clue, to lead his vouth 
i hroiigh serpentine obliquities of life 
And ihe dark labyrinth of human hearts, 
or i)^P • '[ ^^^ ^'"^ ^^^'^ ^^'"e so cheap . 
or wl ,le we learn to fence with public guilt 
uli oft we feel its foul contagion too, ^ ' 
f less than heav'nly virtue is our guard 
Thus, a strange kijjd of curst nec«1sity 

Jy base alloy, to bear the current stamp 

Vnd brands him into credit with the world ■ 
^ here specious titles dignify disgrace • ' 
ind natures injuries are arts of life- ' 
> n!f h!. ""i^f ,'^f °" prompts to bolder crime* • 
ind heav'nly talents make infernal hearts ! ' 

liat unsurmojuitable extreme of guilt' 
/2"r ^yKf.""^^'"?^ • ^^^ labour'd hard his plan 
nllJi' \i^\ ^^"'"' "^^^ "°t go to school !^ ' 
orgot, that man without a tutor wise, 
[IS plan had practis'd, long before 'twas writ 
hi wnr , ' n V"""P"^^^' t^^'-^'s "o conten s • 
nooted for his nudities, and scorn'd 
man I knew who liv'-d upon a smile •' 
nd well It fed him ; he look'd plump and fair 
hile rankest venom foamM through ev'rvvi?n 
Drenzo what I tell thee, take not ill ! ^ "' 
ivmg, he fawn'd on ev'ry fool alive • 
nd, dying, curs'd the friend on whom heliv'd 
3 such proficients thou art half a saint 
loreign realms (for tliou Last travell'd far) 
Dw curious to contemplate two state-rooK ^ 
udious their nests to feather in a trice, 
nil aU the necromantics of their art 
jymg the game of faces on each other, 
SI^k'"'' ^^eetmeats of their latent gall, 
foolish hope, to steal each other's trust 
th cheating, both exulting, both deceiVd- 
!d sooietimes, both (let earth rejoice) undonP • 
eir parts we doubt not : but be that thek "hame 
G 



THE COMPLAINT. Night VUIJ 

Shall men of talents, fit to rule mankind, 
vtnnn to mean wiles, that would disgrace a fool, 
Tnd C Sfe thanks of those fe^v friends they serve 1 
Tor ^ ho can thank the man he cannot see ? 

wSv so much cover? It defeats itsell. 
Ye that kno^v all things ! know ye not men's he>rts 
Ire therefore known, because they are conceal'd 
vo? wlA-^^nceal'd?-The cause they need not tdV 

I au^ hinj ioy that's awkward at a he; 
Wtose feeble nature truth keeps still m awe; 

His incmacity is liis renown. 

'tTs Kreit, 'tis manly, to disdam d.sgu.se ; 

It shows our spirit, or it proves our strength. - | 

Thou «av'st, 'tis needful : Is it therefore nghf? 

lli^e'er 1 "rant it some small sipn of grace 

». f JL' ^t HO excuse • And wouldst thou then 

JJcan? t"ha1 c?uel ne;' ? Thou may'st with ease ; 

?hink nopost needful that demands a knave. 

WhP late our civil helm was shift mg hands, 

But this, how rare ! the puMic path of life 
Ts dirty -Yet allow that dirt its ' "e 

tJc >.o,i.l well knoii.1, "111 Sive <.ur hearts to bea. i 

\ot Virtue's self is deified on earth; 
Hre?A^KL=-K;Jru;e..a.e, 
E"^Sr.rr.\',t(Seas. complain. 

KKSaf.ejre'tasr.'^:'"- 

1 ow can poor folly lead a happy Ufe? 



VIRTUE'S APOLOGY. } 

*• Slrtue haii her peculiar act of pains. — 

" And joys peculiar wbo to vice denies? 

" If vice it is, with nature to comply: 

" If pride and sense, are so predominant, 

" To check, not overcome them, makes a saint : 

" Can nature in a plainer voice proclaim 

" Pleasure, and glory, the chief good of man?" 

Can pride aud sensuality, rejoice ? 
From purity of thought, all pleasure springs : 
And from an humble spirit, all our peace. 
Ambition, pleasure ! Let us talk of these : 
Of these, the porch, and academy talk'd : 
Of these, each following aee had much to say: 
Yet unexhausted, still the needful theme. 
Who talks of these, to mankind all at once 
He talks -. for where's the saint from either free ? 
Are these thy refuge? — No; these rush upon thee; 
Tliy vitals seize, and, vulture-like, devour ! 
£'11 try if I can pluck thee from thy rock, 
Prometheus ! from this barren ball of earth : 
l( reason can unchain thee, thou art free. - 

And first, thy Caucasus, ambition, calls: 
Mountain of torments ! eminence of woes ! 
Of courted woes 1 and courted through mistake ! 
Tis not ambition charms thee : 'tis a cheat 

Will make thee start, as H at his Moor. 

IJost grasp at greatness ? First, know what it is ! 
Think'st thou thy greatness in distinction lies ? 
Not in the feather, wave it e'er so high, 
By fortune stuck, to mark us from the throng, 
Is glory lodg'd: 'Tis lodg'd in the reverse : 
In that which joins, in that which equals all. 
The monarch and his slave : " A deathless soul : 

Unbounded prospect, and immortal kin, 

A father God, and brothers in the skies :" 
Elder, indeed, in time : but less remote 
[n excellence, perhaps, than thought by man ; 
Why greater what can fall, than what can rise? 

If still delirious, now, Lorenzo, go; 
And with thy full-blown brothers of the world. 
Throw scorn around thee ; cast it on thy slaves ! 
Thy slaves, and equals : How scorn cast on them 
Rebounds on thee ! If man is mean, as man, 
A^rt thou a god ? If fortune makes him so, 
Beware the consequence ; a maxim that, 
^Vhich draws a monstrous picture of mankind, 
IVhere, in the drapery, the man is lost ; 
Externals flutt'ring, and the soul forgot. 



])S THE COMPLAirJT. Ifight vm^ 

Thy greatest glory, -when dispos'd to boast. 
Boast that alo\ul, in -which thy servants share. 

We wisely strip the steed we mean to buy : 
Judge we in their caparisons, of men. 
It nought avails thee, where hut what, thou art, 
AH the distinctions of this little life 
Are quite cutaneous, foreign to the man. 
"When through death's straits, earth's subtle serpenta.- 
"Which Avriggle into wealth, or climb renown, [crecp^ , 
As crooked Satan the forbidden tree : 
They leave their party-colour'd robe behind, 
All that now glitters, while they rear aloft 
Their brazen crests, and hiss at us below. 
Of fortune's fucus strip them, yet alive;: 
?trip them of body, too; nay, closer still. 
Away with all, but moral, in their niinfls : 
And let, T^hat then remains, impose their name, 
Ptonounce them weak, or worthy ; great, or mean. 
How mcati that snuiV of glory fortune lights. 
And death puts out ' Dost thou demand a test 
(A test, at once, inf^illible, and short) 
Of real greatnet^s? That man greatly lives, 
"Wl'.ate'er his fate, or fame, who greatly dies; 
High-flush'd with hope, wliere heroes shall despair. 
If this a true criterion, many courts, , 

Illustrious, might aiford but few grandees. 

Tir Almightv, from hi=^ throne, on earth anrveyj 
iS'oughl ereater than an honest, humble heart; 
An humble heart, his residence ! pronounc'd 
His second seat ; and rival lo the skies. 
The private path the secret acts of men, 
If noble, far the noblest of our lives ! 
How far al»ove Lorenzo's glory sits 
Th' iil'.:slrious master of a name unknown; 
Whose worth unrivall'd and unAvitness'd, loves 
life's sacred shades, where gods converge with meo; 
And peace beyond the world's conceptions, smiles 
As thou ! (now dark) before we part, shalt see. 

Out thy great soul this skulking glory scorns-. 
Lorenzo's sick, but when Lorenzo's seen ; 
And when he shrubs at public business, lies; 
benied the public>ye, the public voice, 
A3 if he liv'd on others' brealii, he dies. 
I.a:n would he make the world his pedestal; 
n!a.akind, the gazers, the sole figure, he. 
Knows he, that mankind praise against their wiU> 
-And mi.Kfl:- much detraction as they can ! 
kii.v.ti he, that fail Mess fame her whisper has, 



VIRTUE'^ APOLOGY. Md 

As well as trumpet? That his vanity- 
Is 90 much tickled fnm not hearing all ' 
Knows this all knower, that from itch of praise, 
Or, from an itch more sordid, when he shines, 
1 aking his country by five hundred ears, 
,Seu£tes at onoe admire him and despise. 
With modest laughter lining loud applause. 
Which makes the smile more mortal to his fame ' 
His fame, which (like the mighty Caesar) crown'd 
With laurels, in full senate greatly fall's. 
By seeming friends, that honour, and destroy 
We ri^e in glory, as we sink in ori Je ; 
Where boasting emh, there dignity begins • 
And yet, mistaken beyond all mistake, 
The blind Lorenzo's proud— of hb'.in proud • 
And dreams himself ascending in hiVfalJ. 

An eminence, though fancied, turns the brain • 
All vice wants hellebore ; but of all vice, ' 

Pride loudest calls, and for the largest bowl • 
Because, all other vice unlike it flies, ' 

la fact, the point, in fancy most pursu'd. 
lyiio court applai:so, oblige the world in tliis; 
1 hey gratify man's passiou to refuse, 
•uperior honour, when assum'd, is lo.st; 
t,'en good men turn banditti, and rejoice, 
jike Kouli Kan, in plunder of the proud. 

Though somewhat disconcerted, steady .still 
To the world's cause, with half a face of joy, 
oieuzo crit's,— " Be, thea, ambition cast;' 
Ambition's deiirer far stands uniaipeach'd. 
Gay pleasure ! Proud ambition is her slave • 
Vor her he soars at great, and hazards ill; 
For her, he fights, and bleeds, or overcomes • 
And paves bis way with crowns, to reach hersmile : 
Who can resiit her charms ?"— Or, should f Lorenzo. 
V hat mortal shall resist, where angels yield ? 
'leasure's the mi.stre^s of ethereal powers; 
or her contend the rival gods above ; 
leasure'.-? the mistress of the world below; 
.nd well it is for man that pleasure c;iarm=! • 
low would all stagnate, but for pleasure's ray! 
low would the frozen stream of action cease 2 
("hat is the pulse of this so busy world ? 
|he love of pleasure; that, through ev'ry vein, 
hi-ows motion, warmth ; and sluits out death from life. 
1 hough various are the tempers of mankind, 
leasure's gay family holds all in chaius : 
DiDc mo»t affect the black ; and some the fair; 



ISO THE COMPLAINT. Nighl FIJI. 

Some honest pleasure court: and some obscene. 

Pleasures obscene are various, as the throng 

Of piissions, that can err in human hearts ; 

Mistake their objects, or transgress their bounds. 

Think you there's but one whoredom ? Whoredom all, 

Rut when our reason licenses delight. 

Dost doubt, Lorenzo 1 Thou shait doubt no more. 

Thy father chides thy gallantries ! yet hugs 

An ugly common harlot in the dark; 

A rank adulterer with others' gold ; . 

And that hag. Vengeance, in a corner, charms. 

Hatred her brothel has, as well as love, 

Where horrid epicures debauch in blood. 

Whatc'er the motive, pleasure is the mark; 

For her the black assassin draws his sword ; 

For her, dark statesmen trim their niidnight lamp 

To which no single sacrifice may fall; 

For her the saint abstains; the miser starves; 

The stoic proud, for pleasure, pleasure scorij'd; 

For her, AHliction's daughters grief indulge, 

And fmd, or hope, a luxury in tears ; 

For her, etiilt, shame, toil, danger, we defy; 

And, with an aim voluptuous, rush on death. 

Thus universal her despotic power. 

And as her empire wide, her praise is just. 
Tatron of pleasure ! doater on delight ! 
1 am thy rival ; pleasure I profe.ss ; 
rieasure's the purpose of my gloomy song. 
Pleasure is naught but virtue's gayer name; 
1 wrong her still, 1 rate her worth too low ; 
■Virtue'the root, and pleasure is the flower : 
And honest Epicurus' foes were fools. 

But this sounds harsh, and gives the wise olTence; 
1 f o'erstrain'd wisdom still retains the name. 
How knits austerity her cloudy brow, 
And blames, as bold, and hazardous, the praise 
Of pleasure to marikind, unpiais'd, too dear ! 
Ye modern stoics ! hear my soft reply :— 
Their sen.ses men will trust: we can't impose : 
Or. if we could, is imposition right? _ 

Own honey sweet, but, owning, add this sting; 
" When mixt with poison, it is deadly too." 
Truth never was indebted to a lie. 
L< nouKht but virtue to be prais'd, as good? 
Whv then is health preferr'd before disease 7 
What nature loves is good, without our leave : 
And where no future drawback cries, " beware ; 
Pleasure though not from virtue, should prevail. 



VIRTUE'S APOLOGY. - 151 

'Tis balm to life, and gratitude to heaven • 
How cold our thank3 for bounties unenioy'd ! 
The love of pleasure is man's eldest-born, 
Born in his cradle, living to his tomb ■ 
Wisdom, her younger sister, though more grave 
Was meant to minister, and not to mar, 
Imperial pleasure, 'lueen of human hearts. 
Lorenzo, thou, her majesty's renoAvn'd, 
1 hough uncoift, counsel, learned in the Avorld » 
V\ ho think'st thyself a Murray, with disdain 
iviay St look on me. Yet, my Demosthenes '* 
Canst thou plead pleasurels cause as well as I ^ 
Know'st thou her nature, purpo.se, parentage' 
Attend my song, and thou shalt know them all' • 
And know thyself; and know thyself to be 
(Strange truth !) the most abstemious man alive 
Tell not Cahsta; she will laugh thee dead; 

Or send thee to her hermitage with L . 

Absurd presumption ! Thou who never knew'^t 
A serious thought ! shalt thou dare dream of ioy ' 
No man e'er found a happy life by chance, " 
Or yawn'd it into being with a wish; 
Dr, with the snout of grov'ling appetite, 
E'er smelt it out, and grubb'd it from the dirt. 
*.n art it is, and must be learnt; and learnt 
kVith unremitting ellbrt, or be lost; 
ind leaves us perfect blockheads in our bliss. 
I'he clouds may drop down titles and estates; 
health may seek us; but wisdom must be sought- 
nought before all; but (how unlike all else ' 

Ne seek on earth !) 'tis never sought in vain. r«!ee- 
First, pleasure's birth, rise, strength, and gran«leur 
Jrought forth by wisdom, nurs'd by discipline, 
Jy patience taught, by perseverance crown'd, 
)he rears her head majestic ; round her throne, 
Erected in the bo^om of the just, 
lach virtue, listed, forms her manly guard, 
'or what are virtues? (formidable name .') 
Vhat, but the fountain, or defence, of joy ? 
Vhy, then, commanded ! Need mankind commands, 
it once to merit, and to make, their bliss ? — 
■reat Legislator ! scarce so great, as kind! 
f men are rational, and love delight, 
'hy gracious law but flatters human choice: 
n the transgression lies the penalty; 
.nd they the most indulge who most obey. 

* Afamovs Grecian orator. 



,§2 THE COMPLAINT. Ni^hl Vllt. 

Of pleasure, next, the final cause explore \ 

Its miglity purpose, its important end. 

Kot to turn buinan brutal, but to build 

•Divine on humau, pleasure came from heaven, 

In aid to reason was the goddess sent ; 

To call up all its strength by such a charm. 

rieasure, first succours virtue; in return, 

\ irlue gives pleasure an eternal reign. 

What, but the pleasure olfood, friendship, faith, 

Supports life nat'ral, civil, and divine_? 

'Tis from the pleasure of repast, we live ; 

'Tis from the pleasure of applause, we please; 

'Tis from the pleasure of belief, vve pray; _ 

(All prayer would cease, if unbeliev'd the prize ;) 

It serves ourselves, our species, and our God ; 

And to serve more, is past the sphere of man. 

Cl=de then, for ever, pleasure's sacred stream. 

Tlirou<'h Eden, as Euphrates ran, it runs, 

And fosters ev'ry growth of happy life ; 

Mai es a new Eden where it flows— but such 

As must be lost, Txirenzo, by thy fall. 
"What mean I by thy fall ^'-Thou'lt s]K)rtly see* 

While pleasure's nature is at large display'd ; 

Already sung her origin and ends. 

Tho<*e glorious ends, by kind, or by degree, 

When pleasure violates, 'tis then a vice. 

And ven"eance too ; it hastens into pain : ^ 

From due refreshment, life, health, reason, joy ; - ^ 

From wild excess, pain, grief, distraction, death ; • ^ 

Heaven's justice this proclaims ; and that her love^ 

Wiiat greater evil can 1 wish my foe. 

Than his full draught of pleasure, ironi a cask 

Vnbroach' J bv iust autliority, unguag d 

By teuipeiance, bv reason unref.n'd 7 

A thousand daamons lurk within the lee. 

Heaven, others, and vmrselves ! Uninjur d these, 

brink deep ; the deeper, then, the more aivme ;■ 

Angels are angels from indulgence there ; 

'Tis unrepenting pleasure makes a god. 

Dost think thyself a god from other joye 1 
A victim sather ! shortly sure to bleed- _ 

The wrong must mourn : can heaven's appointment!: 
Can man outwit Omiiii>otence ? strike out [iaU ( 

A «elf-wrought happiness unmeant by hini _ 
Who ijade us, and the world -ve should enjoy ? 
Who forms an instrument, ordains from whence 
l\& dissonance, or hannony, shall rise. 
Heav'n bid the soul this mortal frame ia<»pire ; 



VIRTUE'S APOLOGY. 153 

Bid virtue's raj- divine inspire the soul 

With unprecarious flovv? of vital joy 

And, without breathing, man as well might hope 

* or life, as, without piety, for peace. 

" Is virtue, then, and piety the same'"' 
No: piety is more; 'tis virtue's source • 
Mother of ev'ry worth, as that, of joy. ' 
Men of the world this doctrine ill digest- 
They smile at piety; yet boast aloud 
Good will to men ; nor know they strive to part 
VVhat nature joins; and thus confute themselves 
V, ith piety begins all good on earth ; 
'Tis the first-born of rationality. 
Conscience, her first law broken, wounded lies 
Enfeebled, lifeless, impotentto good ; 
A feign'd affection bounds her utmost power 
Some we can't love, but for th' Alaiightv's sake • 
A foe to God was ne'er true friend to man • 
Some smister intent taints all he does ; 
And in his kindest actions he's unkind. 

On piety, humanity is built; 
And, on humanity, m'uch happiness ; 
And yet still more on piety itself. 
A soul in commerce with her God, is heav'n- 
Feels not the tumults and the shocks of life- * 
The whirls of passions, and the strokes of heart 
A. Deity believ'd, is joy begun ; 
A. Deity ador'd, is joy advanc'd ; 
4. Deity belov'd, is joy matur'd. 
Each branch of piety delight inspire.?; 
i<'aith builds a bridge from this world to the npxt 
,)'er death's dark gulf, and all its horror hides •' ' 
'raise, the sweet exhalation of our iov, ' 

That joy exalts, and makes it sweeter'still ; 
■•ray'r ardent opens heav'n, lets down a stream 
)f glory on the consecrated hour 
)f man, in audience with the Deity. 
Vho worships the great God, that instant joias 
^he first in heav'n, and sets his foot on hell. 

Lorenzo, when wast thou at church before '' 
'hou think'st the service long ; but is it ju«t ' 
'hough just, unwelcome ; thou hadst rather troad 
Inhallow'd ground ; the muse, to win thine ear, 
lust take an air less solemn. She complies, 
•ood conscience ! at the sound the world retires • 

erse disaffects it, and Lorenzo smiles : 

et has she her seraglio full of charms : 
:ud such as a^e shall heighten, not impair. 
2 



154 THE COMPLAINT. Ifigkl VllI, 

Art thou (Rejected! Is thy mind o'ercast ? 

Amid her fair ones, thou the fairest choose, 

To cl.ase thy gloom—" Go, Sx some weighty truth •. 

«' Chain down some passion ; do some gen'rous good: 

•» Teach ignorance to see, or grief to smile; 

" Correct thy friend; befriend thy greatest foe; 

•' Or with warm heart, and confidence diving, ^ 

«• Si>ring up, and lay strong hold on iiim who made tbee. 

Thv gloom is scatter'd, sprightly spirits flow, 

Though withe r'd is thy vine, and liarp unstrung. 

Dost call the bowl, the viol, and the dance, 
I oud mirth, mad laughter? Wretched comforters ; 
Physicians ! more than half of thy disease. 
j,au- hter, though never censur'd yet as sm, 
(Pardon a thought that only seems severe) 
Is half-immoral : is it much indulged ? 
By venting spleen, or dissipating thought, 
It shows a scorner, or it r,-;akes a fool; 
And sins, as hurting others, or ourselves. 
'Tis pride, or emptiness, applies the straw, 
That tickles little minds to mirth eliuse ; 
Of grief approaching, the portentous sign ! 

The house of laughter makes a house of wo. 

Al man triumphant is a monstrous sight : 

A man dejected is a sight as mean. 

What cause for triumph, where such ills abound .' 

What for dejection, where presides a pow'r, 

Who caU'd us into being to be blest? 

So grieve, as conscious, grief may rise to joy; 

So toy, as conscious, joy to grief may fall. 

Most true, a wise man never will be sad : 

But neither will sonorous, bubbling mirth, 

A sl'allow stream of happiness betray : 

Too happy to be sportive, he's serene. 
Yet wouldst thou laugh (but at thy own expense} 

Th^ counsel strange should 1 presume to gjve— 

'>' Retire, and read thy Bible, to be gay." 

There truths abound of sov'reign aid to peace; 

Ah ' 'lo not prize them less, because inspir'd, 

As thou, and thine, are apt and proud to do. 

If not inspir'd, that pregnant page had stood, 

Time's treasure ! and the wonder of the wise . 
Thou think'st, perhaps, thy soulalone at stake; 
^las —Should men mistake tbee for afool ;— 
Whiit man of taste for genius, wisdom, truth. 
Though tender of thy fame, could interpose 1 
Believe me, sense, here, acts a double part, 
And the tJU8-critic is a Cbriatian too. 



VIRTUE'S APOLOGY. 155 

But these thou think'st, are gloomy paths to joy. — 

True joy in sunshine ne'er was found at first: 

They, first, themselves offend, who greatly please ; 

And travail only gives us sound repose. 

Heav'n sells all pleasure ; effort is the price ; 

The joys of conquest are the joys of man ; 

And glory the victorious laurel spreads 

O'er pleasure's pure, perpetual, placid stream. 

There is a time, Avhen toil must be preferr'd, 

Or joy, by mis-tim'd fondness, is undone. 

A man of pleasure is a man of pains. 

Thou wilt not take the trouble to be blest. 

False joys, indeed, are born from want of thought ; 

From thought's full bent, and energy, the true-, 

And that demands a mind in equal poise. 

Remote from gloomy grief, and glaring joy. 

Much joy not only speaks small happiness, 

But happiness that shortly must expire. 

Canjoy,unbottom'd in reflection, stand? 

And, in a tempest, can reflection live ? 

Can joy, like thine, secure itself an hour ? 

Can joy, like thine, meet accident unshock'd? 

Or ope the door to honest poverty ? 

Or talk with threat'ning death, and not turn pale '' 

In such a world, and such a nature, these 

Are needful fundamentals of delight : 

These fundamentals give delight indeed ; 

Delight, pure, delicate, and durable! 

Delight, unshaken, masculine, divine; 

A constant, and a sound , but serious joy. 

Is joy the daughter of severity ? 

it is : — Yet far my doctrine from severe. 

1 ' Rejoice for ever :" It becomes a man ; 

3xalts, and sets him nearer to the gods. 

' Rejoice for ever," nature cries, '* rejoice;" 

*,nd d: inks to man, in her nectareous cup, 

Vlixt up of delicatesfor every sense; 

To the great founder of the bounteous feast, 

Irinks glory, gratitude, eternal praise; 

*i.nd he that will not pledge her, is a churl. 

11 firmly to support, good fully taste, 

sthe whole science of felicity; 

ret sparing pledge : her bowl is not the best 

Vlankind can boast—" A rational repast; 

Exertion, vigilance, a mind in arms, 

A military discipline of thought, 

'i"o foil temptation in the doubtful field ; 

Aal ever waking ardour for the riglt-" 



156 THE COMPLAINT. Highl Fill. 

'Tis these, firstgive, then guard, a cheerful heart. 
Nought that is right think little ; well aware, 
What reason bids, God bids ; by his command 
How aggrandiz'd, the smallest thing we do? 
Thus, nothing is insipid to the wise; 
To thee, insipid all, but what is mad ; 
Joys season'd high, and tasting strong of guilt. 
" Mad ! (thou reply'st, with ino'ignation fir'd) 
" Of ancient sages proud to tread the steps, 
" I follow nature." — Follow nature still, 
But look it be thine own : Is conscience, then, 
No part of nature? Is she not supreme ? 
Thou regicide ! O raise her from the dead I 
Then, follow nature; and resemble God. 

When, spite of conscience, pleasure ispursu'd, 
Man's nature is unnaturally pleas'd : 
And what's unnatural, is painful too, 
At intervals, and must disgust e'en thee ! 
The fact thou know'st ; but not, perhaps, the cause. 
Virtue's foundations with the world's were laid ; 
Heav'n mix'd her with her make, and twisted close 
Her sacred int'rests with the strings of life. 
Who breaks her aAvful mandate shocks himself. 
His better self: And is it greater pain. 
Our soul should murmur, or our dust repine? 
And one, in their eternal war must bleed. 
If one must suifer, which should least be spar'd ? 
The pains of mind surpass the pains of sense. 
A^■k, then, the gout, what torment is in guilt. 
The joys of sense, to mental joys arc mean : 
Sense on the present only feeds ; the soul 
On past, and future, forages for joy. 
*Tis her's, by retrospect, through time to range; 
And forward time's great sequel to survey. 
I'r.uld human courts take vengeance en the mind, 
Axes might rust, and racks, and gibbets, fall ; 
Guard, then, thy mind, and leave the rest to fate. 

T.orenzo, wilt thou never be a man? 
The man is dead, who, for the body lives, 
Lur't!, by the beating of his pulse, to list 
With ev'ry lust, that wars against his peace; 
And sets him quite at -"ariance with himself. 
Thyself, first, know ; tnenlove: a self there ii 
Of virtue fond, that kindles at her charms. 
A self there is, as fond of ev'ry vice. 
While ev'ry virtue wounds it to the heart; 
Humility degrades it, justice robs. 
Blest bounty beggars it, fair truth betray?, 



VIRTUE'S APOLOGY. 

d godlike magnanimity destroys, 
is self, when rival to the former, scorn • 
len not in competition, kindly tre^t, ' 
fend it, feed it :— But when virtue bids, 
sslt, or to the fowls, or to the flame", 
d why ? 'Tis love of pleasure bids thee bleed ; 
nply, or own self-love extinct, or blind, 
'or what is vice ? 8elf-love in a raistake : 
)Oor blind merchant buying joys too dear, 
d virtue, what? 'Tis self-love in her wits, 
ite skilful in the market of delight. 
Move's good sense is love of that dread power, 
im whom she springs, and all she can enjoy 
ler self-love is but disguis'd self-hate ; 
re mortal than the malice of our foes - 
elf-hate, now, scarce felt; then felt full sore, 
en being, curst; extinction, loud implor'd : 
1 ev'ry thing preferr'd to what we are. 
et this self-love Lorenzo makes his choice; 
1, in this choice triumphant, boasts of joy. 
:v is his want of happirieco bettay'd, 
disaft'ection to the present hour ! 
.gination wanders far a-field : 
; future pleases : Whv? The present pains — 
ut that's a secret"— Yes, which all men know ; 
1 know from thee, discover'd unawares 
7 ceaseless agitation, restless roll 
m cheat to cheat, impatient of a pause : 
at :-i it ?— 'Tis the cradle of the soul. 
m instinct sent, to rock her in disease, 
ich her physician, reason, will not cure, 
oor expedient ! yet thy best; and while 
litigates thy pain, it owns it too. 
ich are Lorenzo's wretched remedies ; 
I weak have reme'Jies; the wise have joys. 
erior wisdom is superior bliss. 
I what sure mark distinguishes the wise ? 
sistent wisdom ever wills the same ! 
' tickle wish is ever on the wing. 
; of herself, is folly's character ; 
visdom's is, a modest self-applause. 
i»ange of evils is thy good supreme ; 
, but in motion, canst thou find thy rest. 
i's greatest strength is shown in standing still. 
: first sure symptom of a mind in health, 
;st of heart, and pleasure felt at home, 
e pleasure from abroad her joys imports ; 
ti %oi» within, and s€lf-5ustain'd, the true. 



:58 THE COMPLAINT. mght VM 

The true is fixl, and solid as a rock ; 
Slipp'ry tbe false, and tossing as the wave. 
This, a wild wanderer on earth , like Cain : 
That, like the fabled, self-enamour'd boy * 
Jlome-contemplation her suprente delight; 
She dreads an interruption from without, 
Smit with her own condition ; and the more 
Intense she gazes, still it charms the more. 

No man is happy till he thinks, on earth 
There breathes not a more happy than himself: 
Then envy dies, and love o'erflows on all ; 
And love o'erflowing makes an angel here. 
8uch angels all, entitled to repose 
On him who governs fate : Though tempest frowns, 
Though nature shakes, how soft to lean on heaven ' 
To lean on him, on whom archangels lean ! 
With inward eyes, and silent as the grave, 
They stand collecting ev'ry beam of thought. 
Till their hearts kindle with divine delight; 
For all their thoughts, like angels, seen of old 
In Israel's dream,t come from, and go to, heaven ; 
Hence, are they studious of sequester'd scenes ; 
While noise, and dissipation, comfort thee. 

Were all men happy, revelings would cease, 
That opiate for inquietude within. 
Lorenzo! never man was truly bless'd, 
But it compos'd, and gave him such a cast. 
As folly might mistake for want of joy. 
A cast, unlike the triumph of tbe proud; 
A modest aspect, and a smile at heart. 
O for i joy from thy Philander's spring f 
A spring perennial, rising in the breast, 
And permanent, as pure ! No turbid stream 
Of rapt'rous exultation, swelling high ; 
Which, like land-floods, impetuous pour awhile, 
T^ien sink at once, and leave us in the mire. 
What does the man, who transient joy prefers! 
What, but prefer the bubbles to the stream? 

Vain are all sudden sallies of delight; 
Convulsions of a weak distemper'd joy- 
Joy's a fix'd state; a tenure, not a start. 
Bliss there is none, but unprecarious bliss : 
That is the gem : sell all, and purchase that. 
Why go a begging to contingencies, 
iV'ot gain'd with ease, nor safely lov'd, if gain'd? 

* Narcissus. 

-i Grn- xxxvJii. 12. 



VIHTUE'S APOLOGY. 159 

. goo(} fortuitous, draw back, and pause • 
spect It; what thou caust ensure, exjioV- 
Id nought but what thou giv'st thyse]!', is^ure 
uson perpetuates joy that reason gives, " 
Id makes It as imin-ortal as herself: 
3 mortals, nought immortal, but their worth 
Worth, conscious worth ! should absolutely reicn 
Id other joys ask leave for their aoproach'- 
3r, unexamin'd, ever leave obtain, 
■iou art all anarchy ! a mob of joys 
age war, and perish in intestine broils ; 
ot tne least promise of internal peace .' 
J bosom comlb.-t ! or unborrow'd bliss ; 
ly thoughts are vagabonds : all outward bound 
Id sands and rocks, and storms,to cruise for pleasure • 
gain Vi, dear bought ; and better miss'd than gainVl ' 
uch pain must expiate, what much pain procur'd 
.ncy, and sense, from an infected siiore, 
ly cargo bring ; and pestilence the prize 
len, such thy thirst (insatiable thirst I 
' fond indulgence but mllam'd the more .') 
ncy si.ill cruises, when poor sense is tir'd 
Imagination is the Papliian shop, 
here feeble happiness, like Vulcan, lame 
is foul ideas, in their dL.rk recess, ' 

Id hot as hell (which kindled the black fire«) 
ith wanton art, those fatal arrows form, 
hich murder all thy time, health, wealth, and fam*^ 
ouldst thou receive them, other thoughts there are 
angel wing, descending from above, " 
iiich these, with art divine, would counterwork 
id form celestial armour for thy peace. ' ' 

[n this is seen imagination's guilt; 
t who can count her follies ? She betrays ti-ee 
< think in grandeur there is something great ' 
r works of curious art, and ancient fam'e, 
y genius hungers, elegantly pain'd: 
id foreign climes must cater for thy taste 
'nee, what disaster !— Though the price was paid 
at persecuting priest, the Turk of Rome, ' 

lose loot (ye gods .') though cloven, must be kiss'd, 
tain d thy dinner on the Latian shore; 
ich is the fate of honest protestants !) 
d poor magnificence is starv'd to death, 
nee just resentment, indignation, ire !— 
pacified; if outward things are great, 
s magnanimity great things to scorn; 
aopous expenses, and parades augast, 



160 THE COMPLAINT. MgUt P 

And courts ; that insalubrious soil to peace. 
True happiness ne'er enter'd at an eye ; 
True happiness resides in things unseen. 
No smiles of fortune ever bless'd the bad, 
ISor can her frowns rob innocence of joys; 
That jewel wanting, triple crowns are poor : 
So tell his holiness, and be reveng'd. 

Pleasure, we both agree, is man's chief good; 
Our only contest, what deserves the name ? 
Give pleasure's name to nought, but what has pass'd'.f 
Th" authentic seal of reason (which, like Yorke, 
Demurs on what it passes) and deCes 
The tooth of time ; when past, a pleasure stilJ ; 
Dearer on trial, lovelier for its age, 
And doubly to be priz'd, as it i>romotes 
Our future, while it forms our present, joy. 
Jiome joys the future overcast; and some 
Throw aJl their beams that way, and gild the tomb. 
Home joys endear eternity ; some give 
Abhorr'd annihilation dreadful charms. 
Jlre rival joys contending for thy choice? 
Consult thy whole existen<'.e, and be safe ; 
That oracle will put all doubt to flight 
.Short is the lesson, though my lecture long ; 
Be good — and let heaven answer for the rest. 

Yet, with a sigh o'er all mankind, I grant, 
In this our day of proof, our land of hope. 
The good man has his cloudi? that intervene ; 
Clouds, that obscure his sublunary day. 
But never conquer: E'en the best must own, 
Patience, and resignation, are the pillars 
Of human peace on earth. The pillars, these ; 
But those of Seth not more remote from thee, 
Till this heroic lesson thou hast learnt ; 
To frown at pleasure, and to smile in pain, 
l-'ir'd at the prospect of unclouded bliss. 
Heaven in reversion, like the sim, as yet 
Beneath th' horizon, cheers us in this world; 
It sheds, on souls si:sCeptii.le of light, 
The glorious dawn o'f our eternal day. 

" This (says I,orcnzo) is a fair harangue : 
" But can harangues bloiv back strong nature's streanr 
•' Or stem the tide heaven pushes through our veins ' 
" Which sweeps away man's impotent resolves, ' 
" And la3's his labour level with the world ?" 

Themselves men make their comment oi; niankin 
A^ii think nouglit is, but what they find at home : 
'i'lius weakness to chimera turns the truth. 



VIRTUE'S APOLOGY-. 161 

othing romantic has the muse prescrib'd. 

iibove, Lorenzo saw the man of earth, 

le mortal man; and wretched -was the sight. 

3 balance that, to comfort and exalt, 

3w see the man immortal : him I mean, 

ho lives as such ; whose heart, full bent on heaA'en, 

sans all that way, his bias to the stars. 

le world's dark shades, in contrast set, shall raise 

is lustre more; though bright, without a foil: 

tserve his awful portrait, and admire ; 

)r stop at wonder : imitate, and live. 

Some angel guide my pencil, while I draw, 

hat nothing less than angel can exceed, 

man on earth devoted to the skies ; 

ke ships at sea, while in, above the world, 

With aspect mild, and elevated eye, 

hold him seated en a mount serene, 

lOve the fogs of sense, and passion's storm; 

1 the black cares, and tumults of this life, 

ike harmless thunders, breaking at his feet) 

:cite his pity, not impair his peace. 

rth's genuine sons, ttie scepter'd, and the slave 

mingled mob ! a wand'ring herd I he sees, 

wilder'd in the vale ; in all unlike ! 

s full reverse in all ! What higher praise 1 

hat stronger demonstration of the right ' 

rhe present all their care ; the future, his. 

hen public welfare calls, or private want, 

ley give to fame ; his bounty he conceals, 

leir virtue"'s varnish nature : his exalt. 

lukind's esteem they court; and he, his owe. 

; eirs, the wild chase of false felicities : 

|s the compos'd possession of the true. 

ike throughout is his consistent piece, 

I of one colour, and an even thread; 

lile party-colour'd shreds of happiness, 

th hideo'us gaps between, patch up for them 

madman's robe ; each puff of fortune blows 

e tatters by, and shows their nakedness. 

ie sees with other eyes than theirs : where they 

holdasun, he spies a deity: 

lat makes Ihem only smile, makes him adore. 

lers they see mountains, he but atoms sees : 

empire, in his balance, weighs a grain, 
ey things terrestrial worship as divine ; 

hopes immortal blow them by, as dust, 

* In afornier nig/it. 



162 THE COMPLAINT. mght Vtn 

That dims his sight, and shortens his survey, 

Which longs, in infinite, to lose all bound. 

Titles and honours (if they prove his fate) '■ 

He lays aside to fiml his dignity ; j 

No dignity they find in aught beside. 

They triumph in externals (which conceal 

Man's real glory) proud of an eclipse. 

Himself too much he prizes to be proud, 

And nothing thinks so great in man, as man. | 

Too dear he holds his int'rest, to neglect 

Another's welfare, or his right invade ; 

Their int'rest, like the lion, lives on prey, 

They kindle at the shadow of awrong; 

Wrong he sustains with temper, looks on heav'n, 

Nor stoops to think his iniurer his foe ; 

Nought, but vvtiat wounds his virtue, •wounds his peac^ 

A cover'd heart their character defends ; 

A cover'd heart denies him half his praise. 

With nakedness his innocence agrees ; 

While their broad foliage testiSes their fall. 

Their no-joys end. where his full feast begins ; 

His joys create, theirs murder, future blisB- 

To triumph in existence, his alone ; 

And his alone, triumphantly to thiak 

His true existence is not yet begun. 

His glorious course was yesterday complete; 

Death, then, was welcome ; yet life still is sweet. 

But nothing charms Lorenzo, like the firm, 
Undaunted breast— And whose is that high praise ? 
They yield to pleasure, though they danger brave, 
\nd show no fortitude, but in the field ; 
if there thev show it, 'tis for glory shown ; 
Nor will that cordial always man their hearts. 
A cordial his sustains, that cannot fail : 
By pleasure unsubdu'd, unbroke by pain, 
He shares in that Omnipotence he trusts. 
All-bearing, all-attempting, till he falls ; ^ 
And when^he falls, writes Vici*on his shaeld, 
From magnanimity, all fear above ; 
From nobler recompense, above applause : 
Which owes to man's short out-look all its charms^ 

Backward to credit what he never felt, 
J,orenzo cries—" Where shines this miracle ? 
»' From what root rises this immortal man V 
A root that grows not in Lorenzo's ground ; 
The root dissect, nor wonder at the flow'r. 

He follows nature (not like thee !) and shows us 



J have conquered. 



VIRTUE'S APOLOGY. 1G3 

1 uninverted system of a man. 

s appetite wears reason's golden cliain, 

id finds, in due restraint, its luxury. 

s passion, like an eagle well reclaim'd, 

taught to fly at nought, but infinite. 

tient his hope, unanxious is his care, 

s caution tearless, and his grief (if grief 

le gods ordain) a stranger to despair. 

id why 1 — Because affection more than meet, 

s wisdom leaves not disengag'd from heav'n. 

lose secondary goods that smile on earth, 

loving in proportion, loves in peace, 
ley most the world enjoy, who least admire. 
3 understanding 'scapes the common cloud 
fumes, arising from a boiling breast. 

head is clear, because his heart is cool, 
worldly competitions uninflam'd. 
le mod'rate movements of his soul admit 
stinct ideas, and niatur'd debate, 
eye impartial, and an even scale ; 
hence judgment sound, and uurepenting choice, 
lus in a double sense, the good are wise ; 
its own dunghill, wiser than the world, 
hat then, the world "^ It must be doubly weak ; 
ange truth ! as soon would they believe their creed. 
iTet thus it is ; nor otherwise can be ; 
far from aught romantic what I sing. 
ss has no being, virtue has no strength, 
t from the prospect of immortal life, 
ho thinks earth all, or (what weighs just the same) 
:io cares no farther, must prize what it yields : 
nd of its fancies; proud of its parades, 
^o thinks earth nothing, can't its charms admire ; 
! can't a foe, though most malignant, hate, 
cause that hate Avould prove his greater foe. 
is hard for them (yet who so loudly boast 
od-will to men ?) to love their dearest friend ; 
r may not he invade their good supreme, 
here the least jealousy turns love to gall 1 
I shines to tliem, that for a season shines, 
ch act, each thought he questions; " what its weight, 
ts colour what, a thousand ages hence ?" 
id wliat it there appears, he deems it now. 
;nce, pure are the recesses of his soul, 
iC godlike man has nothing to conceal. 
s virtue constitutionally deep, 
i» habit's firmness, and aiTection*s flame ! 
gels allied, descend to feed the fire ; 
id death, which others slays, makes him a god. 



1,61 THE COMPLAINT. m^ht Fin 

And no"w, Lorenzo, bigot of this -world ! 
Wont to disdain poor bigots caught by heav'n ! 
Stiind by thy scorn, and be reduc'd to nought : 
For what art thou ? — Thou boaster ! ^vhile thy glar.f 
Thy gaudy grandeur, and mere Tvorldiy -worth, 
lAke a broad mist, at dist-an'^e strikes us most ; 
And, like ami;t, is nothi.ig - henuthand; 
His merit like a mountain, or, approach, 
S-wells more, and rises nearer to the skies, 
By promise, now, and, by possession -^oon 
(Too soon, too much, it cannot be) his own. 

From this thy just annihilaf ion rise, 
Lorenzo, rise to something by reply. 
The world, tliy client, listens, and expects; 
And longs to crown thee with immortal praise. 
Canst thou be silent 1 No ; for -ivit is thine ; 
And wit talks most, -when least she has to say. 
And reason interrupts not her career. 

She'll saj' That mists above the mountains ri;- • 

And with a tliousand pleasantries, amuse ; 
She'll sparkle, puzzle, flutter, raise a dust, 
And fly conviction, in the dast she rais'd. 

Wit, how delicious to man's dainty ta&te ! 
'Tis precious, as the vehicle of sense ; 
But, as its subititute, a dire disease, 
Pernicious talent ! Flatter'd by the world. 
By the ijiud world, which thinks the talent rar«. 
Wisdom is rare, Lorenzo ! -wit abounds : 
Passion can give it; .sometimes wine inspires 
The lucky flash : and m-adness rarely fails. 
Whatever cause the spirit strongly stirs, 
Confers the 1. ays, and rivals thy renown. 
For thy renown, 'twere well, -was this the -worst ; 
Chanoe often hits it : and, to pique thee more, 
!*ee lulness, blund'ring on viA'acities, 
Shakes her sage head at the calamity, 
Which has expos'd, and let her down to thee. 
But wisdom, awful wisdom ! which inspects, 
Discerns, compares, weighs, separates, infers^ 
Seizes the right, and holds it to the last, 
How rare ! In senates, synods, sought in vain-: 
Or ;'" there found, 'tis sacred to the few ; 
While a lewd prostitute to multitudes, 
Frequent, as fatal, -wit : in civil life, 
Wit makes an enterpriser; sense a man. 
Wit hates authority; commotion loves. 
And thinks herself the lightning of the storm. 
la sUtes, 'tl> dangerous : ia reiision, dcatb . 



VIRTUE'S APOLOGY. JS,S 

an wit turn Christian, when the dull believe 

nse IS our helmet, wit i.s but the plume' 

le plume exposes, 'tis our helmet saves ' 

ise IS the di'mond, weighty, solid, sound • 

.en cut by wit, it ca.ts a brighter beam ' 

t wit apart, it is a di'mond still 

t wjdow'd of good sense, i-: worse than nou-jit ■ 

hoists more sale to run against a roS ° ' 

us half a Chesterfield is quite a fool • 

lom dull fools scorn, and biers their 'want of wit 

iow ruinous the rock I warn thee shun 

lere Syrens sit, to sing thee to thy fate' 

loy, m whicli our reason bears no part 

:)ut a sorrow tickling, ere it stin^-s' ' 

JiPh n?h '''^"'"^' ""^ "'^ ''^'■^^ ^^^''"j'e thee ; 
uch of hor lovers ever found her true ' 
ppy of this bad world who little know '— 
'■ yet we much must know her, to be safe 
know the world, not love her is thy point- 
! gives but little, nor that litUe, lo/cr' ' 
ere is, I grant, a triumph of the pulle: 
.ance of spirits, a mere froth of joy, 
- thoughtless agitation's idle chijd 
at mantles high, that sparkles, and' expire^ 
iving the soul more vapid than before 
animal ovation ! such as holds 
commerce with our reason, but subsists 
juices, through the well-ton'd tubes, well strain'^ 
>ice machine ! scarce ever tun'd aright • 
J when it jars-thy Syrens sing no more • 
y dance IS done ; the demi-god is thrown 
lort apotheosis !] beneath the man, 
toward gloom immers'd, or fell despair 
,.rt thou yet (lull enough despair to dread, 
1 startle at destruction ? If thou art, 
;ept a buckler, take it to the field • 
field of battle is this mortal life .') * 
en danger tlireatens, lay it oa thy heart ^ 
inglc sentence proof against the world 
:.ul, body, fortune ! Ev'ry good pertains 
o .;ne of these ; but prize not all alike : 
he goods of fortune to thy body's health 
ody to sou!, and soul submit to God" ' 
uldst thou build lasting happiness ? i)o this- 
inverted pyramid can never stand. ' 

; this Iruth doubtful? £t outshines the sun- 
r, t.:ie sun shines not, but to show us this, ' 
J 5;ai,!e lessoa of mankiud on euri»i, 



j(5G THE COMPLAINT. Ifighl VIII 

And yet— Yet, vfhat? No news ! Mankind is mad ? 
Such mightv numbers list against tlie right 
( \nd what canH numbers when bewitch'd achieve I) 
They talk themselves to something like belief. 
That all earth's joys are theirs : as Atlien's fool 
Crinn'dfrom the port, on ev'ry sail his own. 

They grin ; but wherefore 1 And 1k)w long the laugh i 
Half it^norance their mirth ; and half a lie ; ; 

To cheat the world, and cheat themselves they smilfi 
Hard either task 1 The most abandon'd own, 
That others, if abandon'd, are undone : 
Then, for themselves, the moment reason Avakes 
(And providence denies it long repose) 

how laborious is tlieir gayety ! 

They scarce can swallow their ebullient spleen, 
Scarce muster patience to support the farce. 
And pump sad laughter, till the curtain falls : 
Scarce, did I say? some cannot sit it out; 
Oft their own daring hands the curtain draw, 
Kni] show us what their joy, by their despair. 

The clotted hair ! gor'd breast ! blaspheming eye 
Its impious fury still alive in death !— 
Shut, shut the shocking scene.— But heav'n denies 
A cover to such guilt; and so should man. 

1 ook round Lorenzo! See the reeking blade, 
Th' invenom'd phial, and the fatal ball; 
The strangling cord, and suffocating stream '. 

The loathsome rottenness, and foul decays [ 

From raging riot (slower suicides 1) | 

And pride in these more execrable still .— I 

How horrid all to thought ! but horrors, these, | 

That vouch the truth ; and aid my feeble song. 

From vice, sense, fancy, no man can be blest : 
Bliss is too great to lodge within an hour : 
When an immortal being aims at bliss, 
juration is essential to the name. I 

O for a joy from reason ! joy from that, ; 

Which makes man, man : and exercis'd aright,_ 
Will make him more : a bounteous joy ! that gives j 
And promises ; that weaves with art divine, - 

The richest prospect into present peace : 
A joy ambitious ! joy in common held 
With thrones ethereal and their greater far ; _ 
A ioy high privileged from chance, time, death 
^ joy which death shall double ! judgment crovrji 
Crown'd higher, and still higher, at each stage. 
Through blest eternity's long day ; yet still. 
Not more remote from sorrow, than from him, 



VIRTUE^S APOLOGY. W! 

hose lavish hand, whose love stupendous, pours 
much of deity on guilty dust, 
lere, O my Lucia ! may I meet thee there, 
here not thy presence can improve my bliss ! 
A.irects not this the sages of the world"? 
n nought affect them, but what fools them too ? 
ernity depending on an hour, 
ike serious thought man's wisdom, joy, and praise. 
>r need you blush (though sometimes your design* 
ly shun the light) at your designs on heav'u : 
le point ! where over-bashful is your blame, 
e you not wise I You kno-w you are. Yet hear 
e truth, amid your num'rous schemes, mislaid, 
over-look'd, or thrown aside, if seen ; 
)ur schemes to plan by this world, or the next^ 
s the sole difference between wise and fool." 
I worthy men will weigh you in this scale, 
lat wonder, then, if they pronounce you light? 
their esteem alone not worth your care ? 
cept my simple scheme of common sense; 
us, save your fame, and make two worlds your owft. 
e world replies not !— but the world persists: 
d puts the cause ofl'to the longest day, 
nning evasions for the day of doom. 
far at that re-hearing, from redress, 
ey then turn witnesses against themselves, 
ar that, Lorenzo ! nor be wise to-morrow, 
ste, haste ! a man, by nature, is in haste; 
: who shall answer for another hour? 
s highly prudent, to make one sure friend ; 
d that thou canst not do, this side the skies. 
''e sons of earth ! (nor willing to be more .') 
ce verse you think from priest-craft somewhat free, 
us in an age so gay, the muse plain truths 
•uths which at church you might have heard in prose) 
3 ventur'd into light; well-pleas'd the verse 
luld be forgot, if you the truths retain ; 
d crown her with your welfare, not your praise. 
; praise she need not fear : 1 see my fate ; 
i headlong leap, like Curtius, down the gulf, 
ce many an ample volume, mighty tome, 
St die; and die unwept; O thou minute, 
voted page ! go forth among thy foes ; 
nobly proud of martyrdom for truth, 
1 die a double death : Mankind incens'd, 
lies thee long to live : Nor shalt thou rest, 
en thou art dead ; in Stygian shades arrai^n'd 
Lucifer, as traitor to bis throne ; 



»68 THE COMPLAINT. JS'ighl VJl 

And bold blasphemer of his friend —the world ; 
The -vNorld whose legions cost him slender pay, 
And volunteers around his banner swarm ; 
Prudent, as Prussia, in her zeal for Gaul. 

" Are, all, then, fools?" Lorenzo cries.— Yes all, 
But such as hold this doctrine (new to thee ;) 
'' The mother of true wisdom is the will ;" 
The noblest intellect, a fool without it. 
World-Avisdom much has done, and more may do, 
In arts and sciences, in wars and peace ; 
But art and science, like thy wealth, will leave thces- 
And aiake thee twice a beggar at thy death. 
This is the most indulgence can afford;— 
"^Thy wisdom all can do, but — make thee wise." 
Nor think this censure is severe on thee ; 
?atan, thy master, I dare call a dunc€. 



THE 

CONSOLATION. 

NIGHT IX. 

Containing, among other tilings, 
A MORAL SURVEY OF THE KOCTURNAL 

HEAVENS. 
2. A NIGHT-ADURESS TO THE DEITY. 

Inscribed to 

HI.? GRACE THE DUKE OF NEWCA.STLE, 

5ne of his Majesty's Principal Secretaries of State. 



..Fafis conirarin Fata repcndcns.. Virg. 



As -when a traveller, a long day past 
! painful sear(;h of what he'cannot find, 
t night's approach, content with the next cot, 
here ruminates, awhile, his Jahour Jost; 
hen cheers his heart with what his fate affords, 
nd chants his sonnet to deceive the time, 
ill the due season calls him to repose : 
hus I, long-traveM'd in the ways of men, 
ud dancing, with the rest, the'giddy maze, 
here disappointment smiles at hope's career- 
arn'd by the languor of life's ev'uing ray, ' 
t length have housed me in an humble shed : 
here, future wand'ring banish'd from my thought 
:jd waiting, patient, the sweet hour of rest • ' 

ihase the moments with a serious song. 
»ng soothes our pains ; and age has pains to sooth. 
V'hen age, care, crime, and friends, embrac'd at heart 
va from lay bleeding breast, and death's dark shade' 
H 



170 THE CONSOLATION. Mght LX. 

Which hovers o'er me, quench th' ethereal fire ; 
Canst thou, O night! induJge one labour more ! 
One labour more indulge I then sleep ray strain ! 
Till, haply wak'd by Raphael's golden lyre, ; 

Where night, death, age, care, crime, and sorrowi] 
To bear a part in everlasting lays ; [ce^e.t' 

Tho' far, far higher set, in aim, I trust, i 

Symphonious to this humble prelude here. ,j 

Has not the muse asserted pleasures pure, ] 

Like those above exploding other joys 1 
Weigh what was urg'd, Lorenzo ! Fairly weigh; 
And tell Hie, hast thou cause to triumph still ? 
I think thou wilt forbear a boast so bold. 
But if, beneath the favour of mistake, 
The smile's sincere, not more sincere can be 
Lorenzo's smile, than my compassion for him. 
The i=ick in body call for aid : the sick ; 

In mind are covetous of more disease ; , I 

And when at worst they dream themselves quite wel , 
To know ourselves diseas'd, is half our cure. 
When nature's blush by custom is wip'<l o3', 
And conscience, deaden'd by repeated strokes, 
Has into manners naturaliz'd our crimes, 
The curse of curses is, our curse to love; 
To triumph in the blackness of our guilt, 

(As Indians glory in the deepest .iet;) 

And throw aside our senses with our peace. 
But, crant no guilt, no shame, no least alloy : 

Grant joy and glory, quite unsullied shone : 

Yet still, it ill deserves Lorenzo's heart. 

Ko ioy, no glory, glitters in thy sight, 

But through the thin partition ot an hour, 

I see its saMes wove by destiny; 

And that in sorrow bury'd ; this in shame ; 

While howling furies ring the doleful knell; 

And conscience, now so soft thou scarce canst heir 

Her whisper, echoes her eternal peal. 
Where the prime actors of the last year's scene ; i 

Their port so proud, their buskin, and their plume '^ 

How nrany sleep who kept the world awake t 

Wilh lustre and with noise '. Has death proclami d ' 

A truce, and hung his sated lance on high? 

'Tis brandish'd still, nor sliall the present year 

Be more tenacious of her human leaf. 

Or spread of feeble life a thinner fall. 

But needless monuments to wake the thought ; 

T jfe's gayest scenes speak man's mortality ; 

Thou-h in a style more llorid, tnllas plain, 

As mausoleums, pyramids, ana tombs. 



THE COXSOLATIOX. 17 j 

hat are our noblest ornaments, but deaths 
irn'd flatterers of life, in paint or mSe 

ir fathers grace, or rather haunt, tlie scenp ' 
y peoples her pavilion from the dead 

Profest du'ersions ! cannot these escape ''" 
ir from it : These present us ;vith a Sud- 
Id talk 01 death, like garlands o'er a grave 
i some bold plundereil, for bury'd v-fafth 
e ransack tombs for pastime; f/om the du^t 
11 up the sleeping hero; bid him tread 
pM? oL ' our amusement : How like god' 
e sit; and, wrapt in immortality, 
f<.l^r".'"^!" ^®^''* °" wretches born to die • 
Vhnt fi.^t?^''""^^' *° ^'^''Set our own ! ' 
iVLrro ^ t?^ PO'nps and triumphs of our livpv 
It legacies m blossom ! our lean soil. ' 

fxuriant grown, and rank in vanities, 
om iriends interr'd beneath : a rich manure • ' 

ke otlier worms shall we crawl on, nor know 

e^nzo 's '• ^"/■''^' '^*^'- '-I*I"-oachin'g fate ? 
hTuL^'' the glories of the world ! 
, wt IS the world itself! Thy world 7- a oriv.- 
ihere is the dust that has not been ali^^'^" 
le spade, the plough, disturb our ancestors • 
om human mould we reap our daily breaT' 
e globe around earth's hollow surface shaken 
t ^ *''^ r.'^'"- °^' ^'^^ ^Jeeping sons. " 

ar deva,station we Mind revels keen • 

.P mn-i'^^i-^'^"'"' i^^PP^''^ the <^"a"*^erS hftPl. 

e moist 01 numan frame the sun exhales- 
inds scatter thro' the mighty void, the drV - 
rth repossesses part of what she gave, ■ ' ' 
Id tlie freed spirit mounts on wings of tire • 
ch e.emeat partalses our scatter'd spoils •' 
LaHfi'^i.Y''-^' °"^ '■"'»« spread : man's deatb 
habits all tnings, but the thought of man. 
Nor man alone : his breathing bust expires 
s tomb u mortal; empires die : Where now 

ff^w'^.'".' ?';^'-'' ■• '^\''y ^talk an empty ^ame • 
;t few regard them m this useful li<>-ht- 
lough half our learning is their epkapb 
^.nn^r"/''^ "f'^ unlock'dby midnight thought, 
sat oves to wander in thy sunless realms, 
leath ! 1 stretch my view ; what visions rise ; 
hat trn-mphs ! toils imperial ! Arts divine ' 
wither'd laurels glide before my si^^ht ! 



172 THE CONSOLATION. 2fisht 

What lengths of far fam'd ages, billow'd high 

With human agitation, roll along 

In unsubstantial images of air 7 

The melancholy ghosts of dead renoTrn, 

Wlusp'ring faiiit echoes of the world's applause, 

With penitential aspect, as they pass, 

\11 point at earth, and hiss at human pride, 

The wisdom of the wire, and prancings of the great. 

But, O Lorenzo, far the rest above. 
Of ghastly nature, and enormous size, 
One form assaults my sight, and chills my blood. 
And shakes my frame. Of one departed world 
1 see the mighty shadow : oozy wreath 
jVnd dismal sea-weed crown her!* o'er her urn 
Beclin'd, she weeps her desolated realms. 
And bloated sons; and, weeping, prophecies 
Another's dissolution, soon, in flames. 
But, like Cassandra, prophecies in vain ; 
111 vain, to many; not 1 trust to thee. 

For, know'st thou not, or art thou loath to know. 
The great decree, the counsel of the skies? 
Deluge and conflagration, dreadful pow'rs ! 
Prime ministers of vengeance ! Chain'd in caves 
Distinct, apart, the giant furies roar; 
'Vpart; or. such their horrid rage for ruin, 
in mutual conflict would they rise, and wage 
Eternal war, till one was quite devour'd. 
But not for this, ordain'd their boundless rage : 
When heaven's inferior instruments of wrath, 
War, famine, pestilence, are found too weak 
To scourge a world for her enormous crimes, 
These are let loose, alternate : down they rush, 
Swift and tempestuous, from th' eternal throne 
With irresistible commission arm'd, 
The world, in vain corrected, to destroy. 
And ease creation ofthe shocking scene. 

Seest thou, Lorenzo, what depends on man ? 
The fate of nature ; as for man her birth. 
Earth's actors change earth's transitory scenes, 
And make creatir>n groan with human guilt. 
How must it groan in a new deluge w helm'd, 
But not of waters ! At the destin'd hour. 
By the loud trumpet summon'd to the charge, 
See, all the formidable sons of fire, 
Eruptions, earthquakes, comets, lightaings, play 
Their various engines ; all at once disgorge 

* The Deh'gf rc/crrcd to in Genesis vii. 22. 



THE COXSOLATIOX. i: 

f Iielr lilazing magazines ; and take, by storxi), 
I'his poor terrestrial citadel of man. 

Amazing period ! when each mountain-height 
)ut-burns Vesuvius; rocks eternal pour 
"'iieir melted mass, as rivers once they pour'd ; 
tars rush ; and final ruin fiercely drives 
Ter plovigh-share o'er creation I— While aloft, 
lore than astonishment ! if more can be ! 
"ar other firmament than e'er was seen, 
'Jian e'er was thought by man ! Far other stars .' 
tars animaie, that govern these of fire ; 
'ar other su£^— A sun, O how unlike 
'he babe at 'Iftthle'm ! How unlike the man 
'hat groan'd on Calvary ! Yet he it is ; 
'hat man of sorrows ! O how chang'd ! What pomp ! 
I grandeur terrible, all heaven descends ! 
nd gods, ambitious, triumph in his train, 
swift archangel with his golden wing, 
s blots and clouds, that darken and disgrace 
he scene divine, sweeps stars and suns aside, 
nd now, all dross remov'd, heaven's own pure day, 
ull on the confines of our ether, flames, 
'hile (dreadful contrast !) far, how far beneath ! 
[ell bursting, belches forth her blazing seas, 
.nd storms sulphureous; her voracious jaws 
xpauding wide, and roaring for her prey. 
Lorenzo, welcome to this scene ; the I'ast 

I nature's course ; the first in wisdom's thought. 
^his strikes, if aught can strike thee ; this aT%ake3 
'he most supine; this snatches man from death, 
.ouse, rouse, Lorenzo, then, and follow me, 
.'here truth, the most momentous man can hear, 
oud calls my soul, and ardour wings her flight, 
find my inspiration in my theme ; 

he grandeur of my subject is my muse. 

At midnight (when mankind is wrapt in peace, 

nd worldly fancy feeds on golden dreams ;) 

give more dread to man's most dreadful hour, 

t midnight, 'tis presum'd this pomp will burst 

rom tenfold darkness ; sudden as the spark 

rom smitten steel ; from nitrous grain, the blaze. 

[an, .'tarting from his couch, shall sleep no more ! 

he day is broke, which never more shall close; 

bove, around, beneath, amazement all ! 

error and glory, join'd in their extremes ! 

ur GOD in grandeur, and our world on fire ! 

II nature struggling in the pangs of death ! 
oit thou not hear her ? Dost tbou not deplore 



i:i THE CONSOLATION. Mght IX 

Her strong convulsions, and her final groan ? 
Where are we now? Ah, me ! The ground is gone 
On which we stood, Lorenzo ! While thou may'st 
Provide more firm support, or sink for ever ! 
Where I How ? From whence ? V'ain hope! It is too la' 
Where, where, for shelter, shall the guilty fly, 
When consternation turns the good man pale ? 

Great day ! for which all other days were made- 
For wliich earth rose from chaos, man from earth; 
And an eternity, the date of gods, 
Descended on poor earth-crc^ated man ! 
(Ireat day oi' dread, decision, and despaiM 
At thought of thee each sublunary wish ^ 
Lets go its eager grasp, and drops the world ; 
And catches at each reed of hope in heaven. 
At thought of thee ! — And art thou absent then ? 
Lorenzo, no; 'tis here;— it is begun;— 
Already is begun the grand assize, 
In thee, in all : deputed conscience scales 
The dread tribimal, and forestalls our doom; 
Forestalls ; and by forestalling, proves it sure. 
Why on himself should man void judgment pass ? 
Is idle nature laughing at her sons ? 
Who conscience sent, her sentence will support, 
And God above assert that God in man. 

Thrice happy they ! that enter now the court 
Heaven opens in their bosom : but, how rare ! 
Ah, me ! that magnanimity, how rare ! - 

What hero, like the man who stands himself; 
Who dares to meet his naked heart alone; 
Who hears, intrepid, tiie full charge it brings, 
Resolv'd to silence future murmurs there 1 
The coward flies: and, flying, is undone. 
CArt thou a coward? No-.) the coward flies; 
Thinks, but thinks slightly; asks, but fears to kno- 
Asks, " What is truth!" with Pilate ; and retires ; 
Dissolves the court, and mingles with the throng ; 
Asj'lum sad ! from reason, hope, and heaven ! 

Shall all, but man, look out with ardent eye. 
For that great day, which was ordain'd for man? 
O day of consummation ! Mark supreme 
. If men are Avise) of human thouglst ! nor least 
Or in the sight of angels, or their King ! 
Angels, whose radiant circles, height o'er height, 
Order o'er order, rising, blaze o'er blaze, 
As in a tiicatre, surround this scene, 
Intent on man, and anxious for his fate. 
Angeb I0t>k out fur tiiets ; for thee their Lord, 



THE CONSOLATION. i; 

To vindicate his glory : and for thee. 
Creation universal calls aloud, 
1 o dis-involve the moral world, and give 
Jo nature's renovation brighter charms, 
bhall man alone, whose fate, whose final fate 

I tS^f't^K^^"'"','^^^"^*^ '^ ■™'" his thought : 

I think of nothing else ; I see ! 1 feel it ' 

A nature, like an earthquake, trembling round I 

All de. les, like summer's swarm, on wing ! 

All basking in the full meridian blaze ! 

1 see the Judge enthron'd ! The flaming guard ' 

1 he volume open'd ! Open'd ev'ry heart • 

A sun-beam pointing out each secret thou-'ht ' 

No patron ! Intercessor none ! Now past " 

Ihe sweet, the clement, medintorial hour! 

In''e7n"!.hr^lf' J^^i"- "O pause! no bound ! 
inexorable, all ' and all, extreme ! 

i\or man alone ; the foe of God a.nd man. 
From his dark den, blaspheming, drags his chain, 
And rears his brazen front, with thunder searr'd • 
Keceives his sentence, and begins his hell. 
All vengeance past, now, seems abundant grace • 
Like meteors m a stormy sky, how roll 
His baleful eyes ! He cJrses whom he dreads: 
And deems it the first moment of his fall. 

i IS present to my thought !— And "yet where i^ U ' 
^Dgels can't tell me ; angels cunnot Je^s ^ ' '^ 
1 he period ; from created beinss lock'd 
in darkness. Rut the process, and the place, 
ire less obscure : for these mav man inquire 
5ay, thou great close of human hopes and fears ! 
^reat key of hearts ! Great linisher of fates • 
xreat end ! and great beginning ! Say, where art thou ' 
i.rt thou in time, or in eternity^ 'i-iuou, 

\or in eternity : nor time, I find thee. 
I hese, as two raonarchs, on their borders meet 
Monarchs of all elaps'd, or unarriv'd ') 
Is in del.ate, how best their powers allied 
i;V'*y *^?'^ f he grandeur, or discharge the wrath 
m- '* ''^''°'" ^'^^^ ♦^'i^'"" monarchies obey. 

V^hTim'''tn f"m ''^'^T ^°"-^™ l^""* (and doom'd 
Vith him to fall) now bursting o'er his head • 
lis lamp, the sun, extinguish'd; from beneath 
he frown of hideous darkne^, calls his sons 

^^TopV^^'k?".?''"'"'!^'"' ^''^"' ^^^'■tf^'s bearing womb 
second hirth ; contemporary t hron^- ! *> "'' 

.ous'd at one call, upstarting from one^ed, 

reit in one crowd, appall'd with one amaz* 



}TG THE CONSOLATION. Tiight IX^ 

He turns them o'er, eternity ! to thee. 
Tiien (a? a king depos'd disdains to live) 
He falls on his own scythe; nor falls alone ; 
His greatest foe falls with him; Time, and he 
Who murder'd all time's offspring, death, expire. 

Time was ! Eternity now reigns alone ! 
Awful eternity ! oifended queen ! 
And her resentment to mankind, how just! 
With kind intent, soliciting access. 
How often has she knock'd at human hearta ! 
Rich to repay their hospitality, 
How often call'd ! and with the voire of God; 
Yet bore repulse, excluded as a cheat ! 
A dream 1 while foulest foes found welcome there. 
A dream, a cheat, now, all things, bat her smile. 

For, lo ! her twice ten thousand gates thrown wide^ 
As thrice from Indus to the frozen pole, 
With banners, streaming as the comet's blaze, 
And clarions, louder than the deep in storms, 
Sonorous as immortal breath can blow. 
Pour forth their myriads, potentates, and pow'r.?, 
Of light, of darkness ; in a middle field, 
Wide, as creation ! populous, as wide ! 
A neutral region I titere to mark t-h' event 
Of that great drama, whose preceding scenes 
Detain'd them close spectators, through a lengtii. 
Of ages, rip'ning to this grand result; 
Ages, as yet unnumher'dbut by Cod; 
Who now, pronouncing sentence, vindicates 
The rights of virtue, and his own renown. 

Eternity, the various sentence past. 
Assigns the sever'd throng distinct abodes. 
Sulphureous, or ambrosial : What ensues ? 
The deed predominant ! the deed of deeds ! 
Which makes a hell of hell, a heav'n of heav'n. 
The goddess, with determin'd aspect, turns 
Her adamantine key's enormous size 
Through destiny's inextricable wards. 
Deep-driving ev'ry bolt, on both their fates. 
Then, from the crystal battlements of heav'n, 
Dawn, down ^he hurls it through the darlc prolbuni 
Ten thousand thousand fathom; there to rust, 
And ne'er unlock her resolution more. 
The deep resounds, and hell, through all her gloom 
Returns, in groans, the melancholy roar. 

O how unlike the chorus of the skies ! 
O how unlike those shouts of joy, that shake 
The whole ethereal: how the concare rings ' 



i 



TPIE CONSOLATION. 177 

Nor strange '. Tvlien ileities their voice exalt j 

And louder far, than when creation rose. 

To see creation's god-like aim, and end, 

f^o weltaccomplish'd ! so divinely clos'd ! 

To see the mighty dramatist's last act 

(As meet) in glory rising o'er the rest. 

No fancyW god, a God indeed descends, 

To solve all knots ; to strike the moral horn e 

To throw full day on darkest scenes of time; 

To clear, commend, exalt, and crown the whole. 

Hence, in one peal of loud, eternal praise, 

The charm'd spectators thunder their applause; 

And the vast void beyond, applause resounds. 

What then am I ? 

Amidst applauding worlds. 
And worlds celestial, is there found on earth, 
A peevish, dissonant, rebellious string, 
Which jars in the grand chorus, and complains ''' 
Censure on thee, Lorenzo '• I suspend. 
And turn it on myself; how greatly due ! 
All, all is right, by God ordain'd or done; 
And who, but God, resum'd the friends he gave? 
And have I been complaining, then, so long? 
Complaining of his favours, pain, and death .' 
Who, without pain's advice, would e'er be good ? 
Who, without death, but would be good in vain? 
Pain is to save from pain ; all punishment, 
To make for peace ; and death, to save from death - 
And second death, to guard immortal life ; 
To rouse the careless, the presumptuous awe, 
And turn the tide of souls another way; 
By the same tenderness divine ordain'd, 
That planted Eden, and high-blcom'd for man, 
A fairer Eden, endless, in the skies. 

Heav'n gives us friends to bless the present scene; 
Resumes them, to prepare us for the next. 
All evils natural, are moral goods; 
All discipline, indulgence, on the whole. _ 
None are unhappy ; all have cause to smile. 
But such as to themselves that cause deny. 
Our faults are at the bottom of our pains ; 
Error, in act, or judgment, is the source 
Of endless sighs : We sin, or we mistake, 
And nature tax, when false opinion stings. 
Let impious grief be banish'u, joy indulg'd. 
But chiefly then, when griefputs inher claiiaak^ 
Joy from the joyous, frequently betrays, 
Oft lives in vanity, aud dies in wo. 
H 2 



1^8 TliE CONSOLATION. Mgkt IX. 

Joy amidst ills, corroborates, exalts ; 

'Tisjoy, and conquest; joy. and virtue too. 

A noble fortitude in ills, delights 

Heav'n. earth, ourselves : 'tis duty, glory, ped?c. 

Affliction is the good man's shining scene; 

Prosperity conceals his brightest ray ; 

As night to stars, wo lustre gives to" man. * 

Heroes in battle, pilots in the storm, 

And virtue in calamities, admire. 

The crown of manhood is a winter's joy; 

An evergreen, that stands the northern blast, 

And blossoms in the rigour of our fate. 

'Tis a prime part of happiness, to know 
How much unliappiness must prove our lot 
A part which few possess ! I'll pay life's tax, 
Without one rebel murmur, from this hour. 
Nor think it misery to be a man ; 
Who thinks it is shall never be a god. 
Some ills we wish for, when we wish to live. 

W hat ."poke proud passion ?—"*Wish my being lost !'' 
Presum[ituous ! blasphemous ! absurd ! and false I 
The triumph of my soul is,— That I am; 
And therefore that I may be — What? Lorenzo! 
I,ook inward, and look deep; and deeper still; 
Unfuthomablydeep our treasure runs 
In golden veins, through all eternity ! 
Ages, and ages, and succeeding still 
New ages, where this phantom of an hour, 
Which courts, each nigiit, dull slumber, for repairi 
Shall wahe, and wonder, and exult, and praise, 
And fly through infinite, and all unlock; 
And (if descrv'd) by heav'n's redundant love, 
Made half-adorable itself, adore ; 
And find, in adoration, endless joy ! 
Where thou, not master of a moment here, 
Frail as the flow'r, and fleeting as the gale, 
May'st boast a whole eternity, enrich'd 
With all a kind Omnipotence can pour. 
Since Adam fell, no mortal, uninspir'd, 
Has ever yet conceiv'd, or ever shall, 
How kind is God, how great (if good) is man. 
No man too largely from heav'n's love can hope. 
If what is hop'dhe labours to secure. 

Ills ?--there are none I All Gracious ! none from tliee ; 
From manful! many ! num'rous is the race 

* Rfferringtothe First jSight. 



THE CONSOLATION. 179 

Of blackest ills, and those immortal too, 

Begot by madness on fair liberty ; 

Heav'n's daughter, hell debauch'd ! her hand alone 

Unlocks destruction to tne sons of men, 

Fast barr'd by thine ; high wall'd with adamant, 

Guarded with terrors reaching to this world, 

And cover'd with the thunders of thy law ; 

Whose threats are mercies, whose injunctions, guides, 

Assisting, not restraining, reason's choice; 

Whose sanctions, unavoidable results 

From nature's course, indulgently reveal'd; 

If unreveal'd, more dang'rous, not less sure. 

Thus, an indulgent father warns his sons, 

" Do this; fly tliat"— nor always tells the cause; 

Pleas'd to reward, as duty to his will, 

A conduct needful to their own repose. 

Great God of wonders ! (if, thy love survey'd, 
Aught else the name of wonderful retains) 
What rocks are these, on which to build our truat? 
Thy ways admit no blemish; none 1 find; 
Or this alone — " That none is to be found." 
Not one, to soften censure's hardy crime ; 
Not one, to palliate peevish grief 's complaint. 
Who, like a deemon muim'ring, from the dust, 
Dares into judgment call her judge.— Supreme! 
For all I bless thee; most, for the severe; 
*Her death — my own at hand— the fiery gulf. 
That flaming bound of wrj\th omnipotent ! 
It thunders 1— but it thunders to preserve ; 
It strengthens what it strikes ; its wholesome dread 
Averts the dreaded pain ; itsiiideous groans 
Join heav'n's sweet hallelujahs in thy praise. 
Great source of good alone'! How kind in all I 
la vengeance kind ! pain, death, Gehenna, save. 

Thus', in thy world material, mighty mind ! 
Not that alone which solaces, and shines, 
Tlie rough and gloomy, challenges our praise. 
Tiie winter is as needful as the spring; 
The thunder as the sun : a stagnate mass 
Of vapours breeds a pestilential air: 
Nor mere propitious the Favonian breeze 
To nature's health, than purifying storms ; 
The dread volcano ministers to good. 
Its smother'd flames might undermine the world. 
Loud .^^tnas fulminate in love to man; 



f Lucia, 



180 THE CONSOLATION. Aight IX 

Comets good omens are, when duly scann'd; 
And, in their use, eclipses learn to shine. 

Af^n is responsible for ills receiv'd ! 
Those we call wretched are a chosen band, 
Conipell'd to refuge in the right, for peace. 
Amid my list of blessings infinite, 
Stand this the foremost, " That my heart has bled." 
'Tis heav'n'3 last ertbrt of good-will to man ; 
When pain can't bless, heav'n quits us in despair. 
Who fails to grieve, when just occasion calls. 
Or grieves too much, deserves not to be blest : 
Inhuman, or effeminate, his heart ; 
Reason absolves the grief, which reason ends. 
May heav'u ne'er trust my friend with happiness, 
Till it has taught him how to bear it well. 
By previous pain, and made it safe to smile ! 
Such smiles are mine, and such may tliey remain; 
Nor hazard their extinction, from excess. 
My change of heart a change of style demands; 
The consolation cancels the complaint, 
And makes a convert of my guilty song. 

As wheno'er-labour'd, and iuclin'd to breathe, 
A panting traveller, some rising ground, 
^ome small ascent, has gain'd, he turns him round, 
And measures with his eye the various vales, 
The fields, woods, meads, and rivers, he has past ; 
And, satiate of his journey, thinks of home, 
Endear'd by distance, nor affects more toil : 
Thus I, though small, indeed, is that ascent 
The muse has gain'd, review the paths she trod : 
Various, extensive, beaten but by few ; 
And, conscious of her prudence in repose. 
Pause ; and with pleasure meditate an end, 
Though still remote ; so fruitful is my theme. 
Through many a field of moral and divine, 
The muse has stray 'd; and much of sorrow seen 
In human ways ; and much of false and vain ; 
Which none, who travel this bad road, can miss. 
O'er friends deceas'd full heartily she wept; 
Of love divine the wonders she display'd; 
Prov'd man immortal; show'd the source of joy ; 
The grand tribunal rais'd ; aasign'd the bounds 
Of human grief ; in few, to close the whole. 
The moral muse has shadow'd out a sketch, 
Though not in form, nor with a Uaphael-stroke, 
Of most our weakness needs believe or do, 
In this our land of travel, and of hope. 
For peace on earth, or prQspect of the skies. 



THE CONSOLATION. 131 

What then remains? — Much ! much ! a mighty debt 
To be discharg'd ; these thoughts, O night ! are thine ; 
From thee they came, like lovers' secret sighs, 
While others slept. So, Cynthia (poets feign) 
In shadows veil'd, soft sliding from her sphere, 
Her shepherd cheer'd ; of her enauaour'd less, 
Than I of thee — And art thou still unsung, 
Beneath whose brow, and by whose aid, I sing ? 
Immortal silence !— Where shall I begin 1 
Where end '? Or how steal music from the spheres, 
To sooth their goddess '! 

O majestic night ! 
Nature's great ancestor ! Day's elder boru ! 
And fated to survive the transient sun ! 
By mortals, and immortals seen with awe ! 
A starry crown thy raven-brow adorns. 
An azure zone, thy waist; clouds, in heav'n's loom 
Wrought through varieties of shape and shade, 
In ample folds of drapery divine. 
Thy flowing mantle form ; and heav'n throughout. 
Voluminously pour thy pompous train. 
Thy gloomy grandeurs (nature's most august 
Inspiring aspect !) claim a grateful verse : 
And, like a sable curtain starr'd with gold. 
Drawn o'er my labours past, shall close the scene. 

And what, O man ! so worthy to be sung ? 
What more prepares us for the songs of heav'n! 
Creation of archangels is the theme! 
What, to be sung, so needful '? What so well 
Celestial joys prepares us to sustain? 
Thesoal of rnan, His face design'dtosee, 
Who gave these wonders to be seen ky man. 
Has here a previous scene of objects great 
On %vhich to dwell ; to stretch to that expanse 
Of thought, to rise to that exalted height 
Of admiration, to contract that awe, 
And give her whole capacities that strength, 
Which best may qualify for final joy. 
The more our spirits are enlarg'd on earth, 
The deeper draught shall they receive of heav'n. 

Heav'n's King ! whose face unveil'd consummates 
Redundant bliss ! which fills that mighty void, [bliss ; 
The whole creation leaves in human hearts ! 
Thou who didst touch the lip of Jesse's son,* 
Rapt in sweet contemplation of these fires, 
And set his harp in concert with the spheres ! 

« David, 1 S-amuel^vl 18. 24. 



182 THE CONSOLATION. ISlght i^. 

While of thy works material the supreme 
I dare attempt, assist my daring song. 
Loose me from earth's inclosure, from the sun's 
Contracted circle set my heart at large; 
Eliminate my spirit, give it range 
Throuzh provinces of thought yet unexplor'd : 
Teach me, by this stupendous scaiVolding, 
Creation's golden steps, to climb to Thee. 
Teach me with art, great nature to control. 
And spread a lustre o'er the shades of night. 
Feel I thy kind assent ? And shall the sun 
Ve seen at midnight, rising in my song ? 

Lorenzo! come, and warm thee^ thou whose hear; 
Whose little heart, is moor'd within a nook 
Of this obscure terrestrial, anchor weigh. 
Another ocean calls, a nobler port : 
I am thy pilot, I thy prosp'rousgale. 
Gainfulthy voyage through yon azure main; 
IVIain, without tempest, pirate, rock, or shore ; 
And whence thou may'.-t import eternal wealth ; 
And leave to beggar'd minds the pearl and gold. 
Thy travels dost thou boast o'er foreJ.,'n realms I 
Thou stranger to the world ! thy tour begin; 
Thy tour through nature's universal orb. 
Nature delineates her whole cliartat large, 
Oil soaring souls, that sail among the spheres ; 
And man how purblind, if unknown the whole ! 
AVho circles spacious earth, then travels lirre, 
Shall own, he never was from home before ! 
Come, my *Prometheus, Irou) thy pointed rock 
Of false ambition, if uni;I.ai!i'd we'll mount; 
We'll innocently steal colestial fire. 
And kindie our "devotion at the stars ; 
A thett that shall not chain, but sot thee free- 
Above our atmosphere's intestine ware, 
Pain's fountain-head, the magazine of hail ; 
Above the northern ne-ts of'feather'dsnow.s. 
The brew of thunders, and the flaming forge 
That forms the crooked lighuiius:: 'bove the caves 
Where intant tempests wait their growing wings, 
And tune their tender voire> to that roar. 
Which soon, perhaps, shall shake a guilty lyorld : 
Above misconstru'd omens of the sky. 
Far travell'd comets calculated blaze, 
Elance thy thought, and think of more than man. ' 

* .y:^k! the Eighth. 



THE COKSOLATIOX. 183 

i iir soul, till now, contracted, wither*d, ehrunt, 

BliL'hted by blasts of earth's unwholesome air, 

Will blossom here; spread all her faculties 

To these bright ardors; ev'ry pow'r unfold, 

And rise into sublimities of thought. 

8tars teach as -well as shine. At nature's birth, 

Thus, their commission ran — " Be kind to man." 

Where art thou, poor benighted traveller ! 

The stars will light thee, though the moon should fail 

Where art thou, more benighted I more astray '. 

In ways immoral ? The stars call thee back ; 

And, if obey'd their counsel, set thee right. 

This prospect vast, what is it? — Weigh'd arigh!, 
"Tis nature's system of divinity. 
And every student of the night in.spires. 
'Tis elder scripture, writ by God's own hand ; 
f?cr1pture authentic ! uncorrupt by man. 
Lorenzo, with my radius (the rich gift 
Of thought nocturnal !) I'll point out to thee 
Its various lessons; some tliat may surprise 
An un-adept in mysteries of night; 
Little, perhaps, expected in her school, 
Nor thought to grow on planet, or on star. 
Hulls, lioKs, scorpions, monsters here we feign ; 
Ourselves more monstrous, not to see what here 
Exists indeed ; — a lecture to mankind. 

What read we here?— Th' existence of a God ? 
—Yes : and of other beings, man above : 
Kalives of ether? Sons of higher climes ! 
And what may move Lorenzo's wonder more, 
Eternity is written in the skies. 
And whose eternity ? Lorenzo thine : 
IMaukind's eternity. iS' or faith alone, 
Virtue grows here ; here springs the sov'reign euro 
Of almost ev'ry vice ; but chiefly thine; 
Wrath, pride, ambition, and impure desire. 
Lorenzo, tlioii canst wake at midnight too. 
Though not on morals bent: ambition, pleasure ! 
Tiiose tyrants I for thee so* lately fought, 
AlVord their harass'd slaves but slender rest. 
Thou, to whom midnight is immortal noon. 
And the sun's noon-tide blaze, prime dawn of day j 
^■ot by thy climate, but capricious crime, 
(-ommencing one of our antipodes ! 
In thy nocturnal rove, one moment halt, 
'Twixt stage and stage, of riot and cabal ; 

*■ jSight the Eighth. 



. THE COXSOLATION. Tfight TX. 

And lift thine eye (if bold an eye to lift, 
If bold to meet the face of injur'd heav'ii) 
To yonder stars : for other ends they shine, 
Than to light travellers from shame to shame, 
And thus, be made accomplices in guilt, 

Why from yon arch that infinite of space, 
With infinite of lucid orbs replete, 
Which set the living: firmament on fire. 
At the first glance, in such an overwhelm 
Of wonderful, on man's astonish'd sight, 
Rushes Omnipotence? — To curb our pride; 
Our reason rouse, and lead it to that pow'r 
Whose love lets down these silver chains of light; 
To draw up man's ambition to himself, 
And bind our chaste aiFections to his throne. 
Thus the three virtues, least alive on earth 
Andwelcom'd on heaven's coast with most applausr 
An humble, pure, and heavenly-minded heart, 
Are here inspired : — Ami canst thou gaze too longi 

Nor stands thy wrath depriv'd of its reproof, 
Or un-upbraided by this radiant choir. 
The planets of each system represent 
Kind neighbours ; mutual amity prevails ; 
Sweet interchange of rays, recciv'd, retum'd, 
Knlightning, and eclighten'd ! All at once, 
Attracting, and attracted ! Patriot-like, 
A one sins against the welfare of the whole ; 
hut their reciprocal, unselfish aid, 
AlVords an emblem of millenial love. 
Nothing in nature, much less conscious being. 
Was e'er created solely for itself: 
Thus man his sov'reign duty learns in this 
Material picture of benevolence. 

And know, of all our supercilious race, 
Thou most inflammable ; thou wasp of men ! 
avian's angry heart, inspected, would be found 
As rightly set, as are the starry spheres ; 
' Tis nature's structure, broke by stubborn will. 
Breeds all that uncelestial discord there. 
Wilt thou not feel the bias nature gave '.' 
f'anst thou descend from converse with the skies, 
And seize thy brother's throat? — For what? — a clod? 
An inch of earth ? The planets cry, *' forbear." 
They chase our double darkness ; nature's gloom. 
And (kinder still!) our intellectual night. 

And see, Day's amiable sister sends 
Her invitation in the softest rays 
©1 mitigated lustre ; courts thy sight, 



THE CONSOLATION. iS5 

Wliich suffers from her tyrant brother's blaze. 
Night grants thee the full freedom of the skies, 
Nor rudely reprimands thy lifted eye ; 
With gain and joy, she bribes thee to be ■wise. 
Night opes the noblest scenes, and sheds an awe, 
Which gives those venerable scenes full weight, 
And deep reception, in th' intt nder'd heart ; 
W'hile light peeps through the darkness, like a spy ; 
And darkness shows its grandeur by the light. 
Nor is the profit greater than the joy, 
If human hearts at glorious objects glow. 
And admiration can in.spire deliglit. 

What speak I more, than I, this moaient, feel ? 
With plea-sing stupor first the soul is struck, 
(Stupor ordain'd to make her truly wise !) 
Then into transport starting from her trance, 
With love, and admiration, how she glows I 
This gorgeous apparatus ! This display I 
This ostentation of creative pow'r .' 
This theatre !— What eye can take it in ? 
By what divine enchantment was it rais'd. 
For minds of the first magniturle to launch 
In endless speculation, and adore? 
One sun by day, by night ten thousand shine, 
And light us deep into the Deity; 
How boundless in masnincence and might I 
O what a cociluence of ethereal fires. 
From urns unnumber'd, down the steep of hearen, 
Streams to a point, and centres in my sight 1 
Nor tarries there ; I feel it at my heart ; 
My heart, at once, it humbles and exalts; 
Lays it in dust, and calls it to the skies. 
Who sees it unexalted, or unaw'd? 
W'ho sees it, and can stop at what is seen ! 
Material offspring of Omnipotence ! 
Inanimate, all-animating birth ! 
W^ork worthy him who made it ! worthy praise ! 
All praise ! praise more than human ! nor denied 
Thy praide divine ! But though man drown'd in slfeep,. 
Withholds his homage, not alone I wake ; 
Bright legions swarm unseen, and sing, unheard 
By mortal ear, the glorious Architect 
In this his universal temple hung 
With lustres, with innumerable lights. 
That sh&d religion on the soul ; at once. 
The temple, and the preacher ! O how loud 
It calls devotiOQ ' genuine growth of Eig>!t '. 



i8i; THE CONSOLATION. mght IX. 

Devotion ! daughter of astronomy '■ 
An undevout astronomer is mad. 
True : all things s[)e;ik a God : but in the small, 
iMen trace out him ; in great he seizes manj 
Fei/.os and elevates, and wraps, and fills 
With new inquiries, 'mid associates new. 
Tell me, ye .stars 1 ye planets ! tell me, all 
Ye starr'd, and planeted, inhabitants ! What is it? 
What are these sons of wonder! Say, proud arch ! . 
(Within whose azure palaces they dwell) 
Built with divine ambition ? in disdain 
Of limit built ! built in the ti^te of heaven ! 
Vast concave ! ample dome ! Wast thou designed 
A meet apartment for the Deity ?— 
Not SO; that thought alone thy state impairs, 
Thy lofty sinks, and shallows thy profound. 
And straitens thy diffusive ! dwarfs the whole, 
A.n«l makes nu imiverse an orrery. 

But when T drop mine eye, ami look on man, 
Thy right regained, thy grandeur is restor'd, 
O nature ! wide flies off th' expanding round. 
As when whole magazines, at once, are fir'd, 
The smitten air is hollowM by the blow; 
The vast displosion dissiiiat»»s the clouds; 
Phock'd ether's billows dasa the distant skies; 
Thus (hut far n^.oro) th' expanding round flies off. 
And leaves a mighty void, a spacious womb, 
Might teem with new creation; re-inflam'd 
Thy l;iminaries triumph and assume 
Divinity thepiselves. Nor was it strange, 
Matter high-wrought to such surprisii;g pomp, 
Such godlike glory, stole tlie style of f.ods, 
From ages dark, obtuse, and steep'd in sense; 
For sure, to sense, they truly are divine. 
And haU-a!.solv'd idolatry from guilt; 
Nay. turn'd it into virtue. Such it was 
In those, who put forth all they had of mair 
Unlojt, to lift their thought, nor mounted higher; 
But weak of wing, on planets perch'd ; and thought 
What was their highest, must be Iheir ador'd. 

But they how weak, who could no higher mount! 
,\iul are there then, JjOrenzo ! tho':e, to whom 
I'nseen, and unexistent are the ^^-jie I 
And if incomprehen.silile isjoin'd, _ ^ 
Who dare i)ronounce it madness to believe? 
Why has the miglity Builder thrown aside 
Ail measure in his work ; stretcb'd out his line 
J^o fnr, and spread aftiazemeat o'er the whole ? 



THE CONSOLATION. ];,7 

'hen (as he took delight in wide extremes) 
)eep in the bosom of his universe, 
)ropt down that reas'ning mite, that insect, mm, 
^o crawl, and gaze, and wonder at the scene ? — 
'hat man might ne'er presume to plead amazement 

r"or disbelief of wonders in himself. 

■ hall God be less miraculous than what 

f lis hand has form'd I Shall mysteries descend 

I 'rem un-mysterious ? Things more elevate, 
5e more familiar? Uncreated iie 
lore obvious than created, to the grasp 
)f human thought 1 The more of wonderful 
s heard in Him, the more we should assent. 

. ^ould we conceive Him, God he could not be; 

I )r He not God, or we could not be men. 

L\ God alone can comprehend a God ; 

blan's distance how immense ! On such a theme, 

know this, Lorenzo (seem it ne'er so strange) 

[soothing can satisfy but what confounds ; 

fi'Jothing, but what astonishes, is true. 

I The scene thou seest attests the truth I sing, 

knd ev'ry star sheds light upon thy creed, 
i'hese stars, this furniture, this cost of Heaven, 

.11' but reported, thou hadst ne'er believ'd; 

jBut thine eye tells thee, the romance is true. 

Il'he grand oiiiature is th' Almighty's oath, 

[n reason's com-t, to silence unbelief. 

; How my mind, op'ning at this scene, imtibes^ 

The moral emanations of the skies, 

[While nought, perhaps, Lorenzo less admires ! 

|Has the Great Sov'reign sent ten thousand worlds 

jTo tell us, He resides above them all. 

In glory's unapproachable recess ? 

And dare earth's bold inhabitacts deny 

The sumptuous, the magnific embassy 

A m.oraeut's audience ? Turn v,e, nor will hear 

From v,'hom they come, or what tliey would impart 

For man's emolument; sole cause that stoops 

Their grandeur to man's eye ? Lorenzo ! rouse ; 

Let thought, awaken'd, take the lightning's wing. 

And glance from east to west, from poie to pole. 

Who sees, but is confounded, or convinc'd ? 

Renounces reason, or a God adorer 1 

Mankind was sent into the world to see : 

Sight gives the science needful to their peace ; 

That obvious science asks small learning's aid. 

Wouldst thou on tnetaphysic pinions soar ! 

Or wouml thy patience amid lojjic thoras ■ 



lf-,3 THE CONSOLATION. Night IX. 

Or travel history's enormous round? 

Nature no such hard task enioins : She gave 

A make to man directive of his thought; 

A make set upright, point in;: to the stars, 

As who should say, " Read thy chief lesson there "" 

Too late to read this manuscript of heaven, 

When, like a parchment-scroll, shrunk up hy flames, 

It foldi Lorenzo's les¥on from his sight. 

Lei5son how various ! Nor the God alone, 
I see His ministers ; I see diilus'd 
In radiant orders, essences sublime, 
Of various offices, of various plume, 
In heavenly liveries, distinctly clad, 
Azure, -rreen, purple, pearl, or downy gold, 
Or all commix'd; they stand, with wings outspread, 
List'ning to catch the master's least command. 
And fly through nature, ere the moment ends ; 
Numhers innumerable I— Well conceiv'd 
ny Pagan, and by Christian ! O'er each sphere 
rresid°es an angel, to direct it» course, 
\nd feed, or fan, its flames ; or to discharge 
uther high trusts unknown. For who can ses 
Such pomp of matter, and imagine, mind, 
For which alone inanimate was made, 
\fore sparingly dispens'd ? That noble Son, 
Far liker the great Sire ! 'Tis thus the skies 
Inform us of Superiors numberless, 
As much in excellence, aliove mankind, 
As above earth, in magnitude, the spheres. 
These, as a cloud of witnesses, hang o'er us; 
In a throng'd theatre are all our deeds : 
Perhaps, a thousand demi-gods descend 
On ev'ry beam we see, to walk with men. 
Awful reOection ! Strong restraint from ill ! 

Yet, here, our virtue finds still stronger aid 
From these ethereal glories se'nse surveys. 
Something, like magic strikes from this blue vault; 
With just attention is it view'd? We led 
A sudden succour, unimplor'd, unthought ; 
Nature herseh" does half the work of man. 
Seas, rivers, mountains, forests, deserts, rocks, 
The promontory's height, the depth profound 
Of subterranean, excavated grots, 
Black-bro«'d, and vaulted high, and yawning wide 
From nature's structure, or tlie scope of time; 
If ample of dimension, vast of size. 
E'en these an a<rgrandizing impulse giTe; 
or solemn thought enthusiastic heighla 



THE COXSOLATION". 13 

C'en these infuse. — But wLiat of vast in these ? 
Yothing; — or we must own the sides forgot. 
Much less in art. — Vain ai-t ! Thou pigmy-pow«r ! 
How dost thou swell, and strut, with human pride, 
To show thy littleness ! Wlmt childish toys, 
fhy wal'ry columns squirted to the clouds I 
Thy bason'd rivers, and imprisou'd seas ! 
Thy mountains moulded into forms of men ! 
riiy hundred-gated capitals ! Or those 
iVtiere three days travel left us much to ride; 

lazing on miracles by mortals wrought, 
.A.rches triumphal, theatres immense, 
~)r noddiug gardens pendent in mid air ! 
Jr temples proad to meet their gods half-way ! 
Vet these aifect us in no common kind: 
What then the force of such superior scenes ? 
Enter a temple, it will strike an awe : 
What awe from this the Deity has built ! 
A good man seen, though silent, counsel gives : 
rhe touch'd spectator wishes to be wise : 
In a briglit mirror his own hands have made. 
Here we see something like the face of God. 

eems it not then enough, to say, Lorenzo ! 
To man abandon'd, " Hast thou seen the skies?" 

And yet, so thwarted nature's kind design 
By daring man, he makes her sacred awe 
(That guard from ill) his slvelter, his temptation 
To more than common guilt, and quite inverts 
Celestial art's intent. The trembling stars 
t^oe crimes gigantic, stalking through the gloom, 
With front erect, that hide their head by day, 
And making night still darker by their deeds'. 
Slumb'ring in covert, till the shades descend. 
Rapine and murder, link'd, now prowl for prey. 
The miser earths his treasures; and the thief. 
Watching the mole, hali-'oeggars him ere morn. 
Kow plots and foul conspiracies awake; 
And, muffling up their horrors from the moon, 
Havoc and devastation thej' prepare. 
And kingdoms tott'ring in the field of blood. 
Now sons of riot in mid- revel rage. 
What shall I do? suppress it? or proclaim? — 
Why sleeps the thunder ? Now, Lorenzo! now, 
His Lest friend's couch the rank adulterer 
Ascends secure ; and layghs at gods and men. 
Prepost'rous madmen, void of fear or shame. 
Lay their crimes bare to these chaste eyes of heav'n; 
Yet shrixik, and shudder at a aioital's si^ht ? 



mo THE CONSOLATION. nigkl ix:\ 

Were moon and stars for villains only made ? 
To guide, yet screen them, witli tenebrious light ? 
No; they were made to fashion the sublime 
Of human hearts, and wiser make the wise. 

Those ends were answer'd once ; when mortals liv'd !] 
Of stronger wing, of aquiline ascent 
In theory sublime. O how unlike 
Those vermin of the night this moment sung, 
Who crawl on earth, and on her venom feed ! 
Those ancient sages, human stars I They met 
Their brothers of the skies, at midnight liour : 
Their counsel ask'd; and, what they ask'd, obey'd. 
The Stagirite.and Plato, he who drank 
Thepoison'd bowl, and he of Tusculum, 
With him of Corduba (immortal names !) 
In these unbounded and Elysian walks, 
An area tit for gods, and godlike men. 
They took their nightly round, through radiant paths 
By seraphs trod ; instructed, chiefly, thus, 
To tread in their bright footsteps here below : 
To walk in worth still brighter tiian tl)e skie.-. 
There, they contracted their contempt of earth ; 
Of hopes eternal kindled, there, the fire ; 
There, as in near approach, they glow'd, and grew 
(Great visitants !) more intimate with God, 
More worth to men, more joyous to themselves. 
Through various virtues, they, with ardour, ran 
The zodiac of their learu'd, illustrious lives. 

In christian hearts, O for a pagan zeal ! 
A needful but opprobrious pray'r I As much 
Oar ardour less, a; greater is our light. 
How monstrous this in morals ! Scarce more strange* 
Would this phenomenon in nature strike, 
A sun, that froze us, or a star, tliat warniM. 

What taught these heroes of tlie moral world? 
To these thou giv'st thy praise, givo credit too. 
These doctors ne'er were pensionM to deceive thee : 
And pagan tutors arc thy taste.— They taught, 
That, narrow views betray to misery : 
That, wise it is to comprehend the whole: 
That, virtue rose fiom nature, ponder'd well, 
The single base of virtue built to heav'n : 
That, God and nature, our attention claim : 
That, nature is the glass reflecting God, 
As, by t!ie sea, reflected is the sun. 
Too glorious to be gaz'd on in his sphere : 
That, mind immortal loves immortal aims : 
That, boundless mind afi'ects a boundless spact ■ 



THE CONSOLATION. 191 

That, vast survey?, and the sublime of things, 
The soul assimilate, and make lier great : 
That, therefore, heaven her glories, as a fund 
3f inspiration, thus spreads out to man. 
Mich are their doctrines : such the night inspir'd. 

And what more true f What truth of greater weight 1 
The soul of man was made to walk the skies ; 
Delightful outlet of her prison here ! 
There, disincumler'd from her chains, the ties 
Df tojs terrestrial, she can rove at large. 
There, freely can respire, dilate, extend. 
In full proportion let loose all her powers ; 
And, undeluded, grasp at something great. 
Nor, as a stranger, does she wander there ; 
But, wonderful herself, through wonder strays: 
Contemplating their grandeur, finds her own • 
Dives deep in their economy divine, 
Sits high in judgment on their various laws, 
And, like a master, judges not amiss. 
Hence greatly pleas'd, and justly proud, the soul 
Grows conscious of her birth celestial; breathes 
More life, more vigour, in her native air ; 
And ferl- herself at home among the stars ; 
And, fceiuig, emulates her country's praise. 

Wl;at call we, then, the firmament, Lorenzo ?— 
As earth the body, since, the skies sustain 
The soul with food, that gives immortal life, 
Calljt, The noble pasture of the mind; 
Which there expatiates, strengthens, and exults. 
And riots through the luxuries of thought. 
Call it, The garden of the Deity, 
Biossom'd with .stars, redundant in the growth 
Of fruit ambrosial ; moral fruit to man. 
Call it, The breast-plate of the true high-prie't. 
Ardent with gems oracular, that give. 
In points of highest moment, right response ; 
And ill neglected, if we prize o'ur peace. 

Thus, have we found a true astrology ; 
Thus, have we found a new and noble sense. 
In which alone stars govern human fates. 
O tlrat the stars (as some have feign'd) let fall 
Bloodshed, and havoc, on embattled realms. 
And rcscu'd monarchs from so black a guilt ! 
Bourbon ! this wish how gen'rous in a foe ! 
VVouldst thou be great, w ouldst thou become a god. 
And stick thy deathless name among the stars, 
For mighty conquests on a needle's point I 
Instead ol forging chains for foreigners, 



102 THE CONSOLATION. Ifishlll] 

Bastile thy tutor : grandeur all thy aim ? 
As yet thou know'»t not what it is : how great, 
How glorious, then, appears the mind of man, 
When in it all the stnrs, and planets, roll ; 
And what it seems, it is : great objects make 
Great minds, enlarging as their views enlarge ; 
Those still more godlike, as these more divine. 

And more divine than these, thou canst not see. 
Dazzled, o'erpower'd, with the delicious draught 
Of miscellaneous splendours, how I reel 
From thought to thouglit, inebriate, without end I 
An Eden, this ! a Paradise unlost ! 
i meet the Deity in ev'ry view, 
And tremble at my nakedness before him ! 
O that 1 could but reach the tree of life ! 
For here it grows, unguarded from our taste 
No flaming sword denies our entrance here ; 
Would man but gather, he might live for ever. 

Lorenzo, much of moral hast thou seen. 
Oi'curious arts art thou more fond ? Then mark 
The mathematic glories of the skies. 
In number, weight, and measure, all ordain'd. 
Lorenzo's boasted huildei-s, chance, and laie, 
Are left to finish his aerial towers ; 
Wisdom, and choice, their well-known characters 
Here deep impress, and claim it lor their own. 
Though splendid all, no splendour void of use ; 
Use rivals beauty : art contends with power ; 
No wanton waste, amid ed'use expense ; 
The great economint adjusting all 
To piiident pomp, magnificently wise. 
How rich the prospect ! and for ever new ! 
And newest to the man that views it most; 
For newer still in inilnite succeeds. 
Then, these aerial racers, O how swift .' 
How the shaft loiters froi.i the strongest string ? 
Spirit alone can distance the career. 
Orb above orb ascending without end ! 
Circle in circle, without tnd, inclos'd 1 
Wheel within wheel ; Ezekiel, like to thine !* 
Like thine, it seems, a vision or a dream ; 
Though seen, we labour to believe it true ! 
What involution ! What extent! What swarms 
Of worlds, that laugh at earth ! immensely great ! 
Immensely distant from each other's spheres ! 
What then, the wondrous space thro' which they roll 

* Eztkid, X. 9, 10. 



THE CONSOLATION. 193 

At once it quite injulphs all human thought ; 
'Tis comprehension's absolute defeat. 

Nor think thou seest a wild disorder here ; 
Through this illustrious chaos to the sight. 
Arrangement neat, and chastest order, reign. 
The path prescrlb'd, inviolably kept, 
Upbraids the lawless sallies of mankind. 
Worlds, ever thwartin*:, never interfere : 
What knots are tied ! llow soon are they dissol v'»J, 
A nd set the seeming married planets free I 
They rove for ever, -without error rove ; 
Confusion unconfus'd : nor less admire 
This tumult untumultuous ; all on wing ! 
In motion, all ! yet what profound repose ! 
What fervid action, yet no noise ! as aw'd 
To silence, by the presence of their Lord; 
Or hush'd, by his command, in love to man. 
And bid let fall soft beams on human rest, 
Restless themselves. On yon cerulean plain, 
In exultation to their God, and thine. 
They dance, they sing eternal jubilee, 
Eternal celebration of his praise. 
But, since their song arrives not at our ear, 
Their dance perplex'd exhibits to the sight 
Fair hieroglyphic of his peerless power. 
Mark, how the labyrinthian turns they take, 
The circles intricate, and mystic maze, 
Weave the grand cipher of Omnipotence; 
To gods, how great ! how legible to man ! 

Leaves so much wonder greater wonder still? 
Where are the pillars that support the skies ? 
What more than Atlantean shoulder props 
Th' incumbent load 1 What magic, what strange art, 
In fluid air these pond'rous orbs sustains? 
Who would not think them hung in golden chaiqs ? 
— And so they are ; in the high will of heaven, 
Which tixes all; makes adamant of air. 
Or air of adamant; makes all of nought, 
Or nought of all ; if such the dread decree. 

Imagine from their deep foundations torn 
The most gigantic sons of earth, the broad 
And towering Alps, all tost into the sea; 
And, light as down, or volatile as air, 
Their bulks enormous dancing on the waves. 
In time, and measure, exquisite; while all 
The winds, and em\ilation of the spheres, 
Tune their sonorous instruments aloft; 
The ccBcert swell, and animate the bail- 
1 



194 THE CONSOLATION. Night IX 

Would this appear amazing ? What, then, "worlds, 
In a far thinner element sustain'd, 
And acting the same part, with greater skill, 
More rapid movement, and lor noblest ends ? 

More obvious ends to pass, are not these stars 
The seats majestic, proud imperial thrones, 
On which angelic delegates of heaven, 
At certain periods, as the Sov'reign nods, 
Discharge high trusts of vengeance, or of love; 
To clothe, in outward grandeur, grand design, 
And acts most solemn still more solemnize I 

Ye citizens of air ! what ardent thanivS, 
What full etfusion of the grateful heart. 
Is due from man indulg'd in such a sight.' 
A sight so noble ! and a sight so kind ! 
It drops new truths at ev'ry new survey ! 
Feels not Lorenzo something stir within, 
That sweeps away all period ? As these spheres 
Measure duration, they no less inspire 
The godlike hope of ages without end. 
The boundless space, through which these rovers take 
Their restless roam, suggests the sister-thought 
Of boundless time. Thus, by kind nature's skill, 
To man unlahour'd, that important guest, 
Eternity, finds entrance at the siglit : 
i».nd aneterniiy, for man ordain' d. 
Or these his destin'd midnight counsellors. 
The stars, had never whisper'd it to man. 
Mature informs, but ne'er insults, her sons. 
Could she then kindle the mo.st ardent wish 
To disappoint it !— That is blasphemy. 
Thus, of thy creed a second article, 
WomentoiLs, as tb' existence of a God, 
Is found (as I conceive) where rarely sought; 
And thou n?ay'st read thy soul immortal, here. 

Here, then, l^orenzo, on Ihe.Re glories .dw.el] : 
i\or waiit th:> •.;;!(, illuminated roof. 
That calls llie wretched gay to dark ddights. 
Assemblies ? — Thi> i^^ one divinely bright; 
Here, une'ndanger'd in health, wealth, or fame. 
Pangc through the fairest, and the Sultan* scorn. 
He, wise as thou, no crescent holdiso fair 
As that, which on his turban aivcs a world; 
And th;(d;s the moon is proud to copy him. 
Look on her, and gain more than worlds can giv^, 
A mind superior to the charms of power. 

* The ar.pcror of 7\iirkiV. 



THE CONSOLATION. ] 

Thou muffled in delusions of this Life ! 
Can yonder moon turn ocean in his bed. 
From side to side, in constant ebb and flow, 
And purify from stench his Avat'ry realms ? 
And fails her moral influence ? Wants she power 
To turn Lorenzo's stubborn tide of thought 
From stagnating on earth's infected shore. 
And purge from nuisance his corrupted heart ? 
Fails her attraction when it draws to heaven? 
Nay, and to what thou valuest more, earth's joy .' 
Minds elevate, and panting for unseen, 
And defecate from sense, alone obtain 
Full relish of existence undeflower'd. 
The life of life, the zest of worldly bliss. 
All else on earth amounts — to wh;it ? To this : 
" Bad to be suiTer'd; blessings to be left ;" 
Earth's richest inventory boasts no more. 

Of higher scenes be, then, the call obey'd. 
O let me gaze ! — Of gazing there's no end. 
O let me think ! — Thought too is wilder'd here : 
In raid-way flight imagination tires ; 
Vet soon re-prunes her wings to soar auew, 
Her point unable to forbear or gain ; 
So great the pleasure, so profound the plan ! 
A banquet this, where men, and angels, meet. 
Eat the same manna, mingle earth, and heaven. 
How distant some of these nocturnal suns ! 
bo distant (says the sage) 'twere not absurd 
To doubt, if beams, set out at nature's birtlj, 
Are yet arriv'd at this so foreign world; 
Though nothing half so rapid as their flight. 
An eye of awe and wonder let me roll, 
And roll for ever : who can satiate sight 
In such a scene ? in such an ocean wide 
Of deep asloni-shment? Where depth, height, bread) 
Are Io.5t in their extremes: and where to count 
The thick-sown glories in this iield of fire, ' 
Perhaps a .■^eraph's computation fails. 
Now, go, ambition ! boast thy boundless might 
.In conquest, o'er the tenth part of a grain. 

And yet Lorenzo calls for miracles, 
To give his tott'ring faith a solid base. 
Why call for less than is already thine ? 
Thou art no novice in theology ; 
What is a miracle! — 'Tis a reproach, 
'Tis an implicit satire, on mankind ; 
And while it satisfies, it censures too. 
To comaion-s€Hse, great nature's course proclaimi 



19ti THE CONSOLATION. .^ight : 

A Deity: ivhen mankind falls asleep, 

A miracle is sent, as an alarm, 

To wake the ■vsorld, and prove him o'er again, 

By recent argument, but not more stron*. 

Say, which imports more plentitiide of power, 

Or nature's laws to fix, or to repeal ? 

To make a sun, or stop his mid career ? 

To countermand his orders, and send back 

'I'he flaming courier to the frighted east, 

VVarm'W, and astonish'd, at his ev'ning ray? 

Or hid the moon, as with hei- journey tir'd, 

In Ajaion's soft flow'ry vale repose ?* 

Great things are these ; still greater, to create. 

From Adam's bower look down through the whole tral:. 

Of miracles ; — resistless is their power ? 

They do not, cannot, more amaze the miud, 

Than this, call'd unmiraculous survey, 

If duly weigh'd, if rationally seen, 

If seen with human eyes. The brute, indeed, 

Sees nought but .spangles here : the fool no more. 

Say'stthou, " The course of nature governs all?" 

The course of nature is the art of God. 

The miracles thou call'st for, this attest ; 

For say, could nature nature's course controul ? 

But, miracles apart, who sees Him not, 
IVature's controller, author, guide, and end? 
Who turns his eye on nature's midnight face. 
But must inquire — " What hand behind the scene, 
" What arm Almighty put theae wheeling globes 
*' In motion, and wound up the vast machine? 
" Who rounded in his palm tliese spacious orbs? 
" Who howl'd them flaming through the dark profounci, 
" Num'rous asglitt'ring gems of morning dew, 
" Or sparks from populous cities in a blaze, 
" And set the bosom of old night on lire? 
" Peopled her desert, and made horror smile ?" 
Or, if the military style delights thee, 
(For stars have fought their littles, leagu'd with man) 
" Who marshals this bright host? Enrolls their names? 
" Appoints their posts, their marches, and returns, 
" Punctual, at stated periods? who disbands 
" These vet'rao troops, their final duty done, 
" If e'er disbanded ?" — He, whose potent word, 
Like the loud trumpet, levied first their powers 
In night's inglorious empire, where they slept 
In teds of darknes; arm'd them with fierce flames, 

* Joshva, X. 12, 13. 



THE CONSOLATION. 1-J7 

Arranged and disciplin'd, and cloth'd in gold; 

And call them out of chaos to the field, 

Where now the}' war with vice and unbelief. 

O let us join this armj' ! Joining these, 

Will give us hearts intrepid at that hour. 

When brighter dames shall cut a darker night; 

When tiicse strong demojistrations of a God 

Shall bid their heads, or rumble from tneir sphere?, 

And one eternal curtain cover all ! 

Struck at that thought, as new awak'd, I lift 

A more eulii;hten'd eye, and read the stars, 

To man still mere propitious, and their aid 

(Though guiltless of idolatry) implore ; 

Nor longer rob them of their' nob lest name. 

O ye dividers of my time ! Ye bright 

Accomptants of my dayi, and months, and years, 

In your fair calendar distinctly mark'd I 

biuce that authentic, radiant regi.ster, 

Though man inspects it not, stands good against him ; 

Pince you, an 1 years, roll on, thougii man stands still ; 

'J'each me my days to number, and apply 

iVIy trembling heart to ^\isdom ; now beyond 

Ail shadow of excuse for fooling on. 

Age smooths our path to prudence ; sweeps aside 

1"he snares, keen appetites, and passion, spread 

'J'o catch stray souls; and wo to that grey head, 

Whose folly would undo what age has done ! 

Aid, then, aid all ye star,s ?— 3Iuch rather. Thou, 

Great Artist ! Tiiou, whose finger set aright 

This exquisite machine, with all its wheels. 

Though intervolv'd, exact; and pointing out 

Life'srapid, and irrevocable flight. 

With such an index fair, as none can miss, 

Who lifts an eye, nor sleeps till it is clos'd. 

Open mine eye, dread Deity ! to read 

The tacit doctrine of tiiy works ; to see 

Things as they are, unalter'd through the glass 

Of worldly wishes. Time, eternity I 

('Tis these midmeaaur'd- ruin all mankind) 

Set them before me ; let me lay them both 

in equal scale, and learn their various weight. 

r,et time appear a moment, as it is : 

And let eteruity'-s full orb, at once. 

Turn on my soul, and strike it into heav'D. 

When shall I see far more than charms me now? 

Gaze on creations model in thy breast 

Unveil'd, nor wonder at the transcript more ? 

Wben^ this vile, foreign dust, which smothers all 



198 THE CONSOLATION. mght IX 

That travel earth's deep vale, shall I shake off? 
When sliall my soul her incarnation quit, 
And re-adopted to thy blest embrace, 
Obtain her apotheosis in Thee 1 

Uost think, Lorenzo, this is -wand'ring wide I 
No, 'tis directly striking at the mark ; 
To wake thy dead devotion ivas my point; 
And how I bless night's consecrating shades, 
Which to a temple turn an universe; 
Fill us with great ideas full of heav'n, 
And antidote the pestilential earth! 
In ev'ry storm, that either frowns, or falls, 
What an asylum has the soul in pi'ay'r ! 
And what a fane is tliis, in which to pray .' 
And what a God must dwell in such a fane ! 
O what a genius must inform the skies ! 
And is Lorenzo's salamander-iieart 
Cold, and untouch'd, amid these sacred fires? 
O ye nocturnal sparks ! Ye glowing embers. 
On heaven's broad hearth ! who burn, or burn no moret 
Who blaze, or die, as great Jehovah's breath 
Or blows you or forbears ; assist my song ; 
Pour your whole inHuence ; exorcise his heart, 
fcio long possest; and bring him back to man. 

And is Lorenzo a demurrer still ? 
Pride in thy parts provokes thee to contest 
'JYuths, which contested, put thy parts to shame. 
Nor shame they more Lorenzo's head than heart; 
A faithless heart, hov,' despicably small ! 
Too straight, aught great, or gen'rous to receive '. 
Fill'd with an atom ! rill'd, and foul'd, with self! 
And self-mistaken ! Self, that lasts an hour i 
Instincts and passions, of the nobler kind, 
Lie suiTocated there; or they alone, 
Jleason apart, would wake high hope; and open. 
To ravish'd thought, that intellectualsphere, 
Where order, w isdom, goodness. Providence, 
Their endless miracles of love display, 
And promise.ail the truly great desire. 
The mind that would be happy, must be great ; 
Great in its wishes ; great in its surveys. 
Extended views a narrow mind extend; 
Push out its corrugate, expansive make. 
Which, ere long, more than planets shall embrace. 
A man of compass makes a man of worth ; 
Divine contemplate, and become divine. 

As man was made for glory, and for bliis, 
AH iittleaeas is io approach to wo ; 



THE CONSOLATIONS-. 

jpen thy bosom, set thy wishes wide, 
^nd let in rranhood; let in happiness; 
idmit the boundless theatre of thought 
^'rom nothing, up to God; which makes a man. 
Take God from nature, nothm?; great is left; 
Vlan's mind is in a pit, and nothing sees; 
Vlan's heart is ina jakes, and loves the mire. 
5mer;e from thy profound ; erect thine eye ; 
see thy distress ' How close art thou besieg'd ' 
3esieg'd by nature the proud sceptic's foe ! 
:nclos'd by these innumerable worlds, 
sparkling cnnA'iction on the darkest mind, 
i^s in a golden net of Providence, 
Hovi art thou caught, sure captive of belief ! 
ii'rom this thy blest captivity what art, 
iVhat blasphemy to reason, sets thee free ! 
Thiai'sccne is heaven's indulgent violence : 
]an^ttliou bear up against this tide of glory? 
kVhat is earth bosomed in these ambient orbs, 
^ut, faith in God impos'd, and press'd on man ! 
Dar'st thou still litigate thy desp'rate cause, 
>pite of these num'rous, awful, witnesses, 
•S^nd doubt the deposition of the skies? 
D how laborious is thy way to ruin I 

Laborious ? 'Tis impracticable quite ; 
To sink beyond a doubt, in this debate, 
With all his weight of wisdom, and of wiJl, 
And crime flagitious, I defy a fool. 
Some wish they did ; but no man disbelieve.?, 
jod is a spirit, spirit cannot strike 
These gross mat-erial organs : God by man 
As much is seen, as man a God can see, 
In these astonishing exploits of power, 
rt'^hat order, beauty, motion, di.stance, size ! 
Toncertion of design, liow exquisite! 
How complicate, in their divine police ! 
Apt means ! great ends ! consent to gen'ral good ! 
Rach attribute of these material gods, 
:o long (and that with specious pleas) ador'd, 
A sep'rate conquest gains o'er rebel thought; 
And leads in triumph the whole mind of man. 

Lorenzo ! this may seem harangue to thee; 
5uch all is apt to seem, that thwarts our will. 
And dost thou, then, demand a simple proof 
Df thi-; g eat master- moral oi' the skies, 
L^nskili'd, or disinclin'd, to read it there? 
«?!nce 'tis the basis, and all drops without it. 
Take it, in one corapact, unbroken chain. 



200 THE CONSOLATION. Ni^ht IX. 

Such proof insists on an attentive ear; 

'Twill not make one amid a mob of thoughts, 

And, for thy notice, struggle with the world. 

Retire ;-the world shut out ;-thy thoughts call home ;- 

Imagination's airy wing repress;— 

Lock up thy senses; — Let no passion stir ; — 

Wake all to reason ; — let her reign alone ; 

Then, in thy soul's deep silence, and the depth 

Of nature's silence, midnight, thus inquire, 

As I have done ; — and shall inquire no more. 

In nature's channel, thus the questions run : — 

" What am 1 ! and from v;hence ? I nothing know; 
" But that I am; and, since 1 am, conclude 
•' Scmething eternal; had there e'er been nought, 
" Nought still had Veen : eternal there must be, 
*' But what eternal ? — Why not human race ? 
*' And Adam's ancestors w'ithout an end ; — 
♦' That's hard to he conceiv'd, since ev'ry link 
" Of that long-chain'd succession is so frail ; 
♦' Can ev'ry part depend, and not the whole? 
" Yet grant it true, new difficulties rise; 
" I'm still quite out at sea ; nor see the shore. 
" Whence. earth, and these bright orbs? Eternal too ' , 
♦' Grant matter was eternal; still these orbs 
»* Would want some other father :— much design 
" Is seen in all their motions, all their makes : 
♦' Design implies intelligence and art : 
«« That can't be from themselves— or man; that art 
" Man scarce can comprehend, could man bestow ? 
** And nothing greater, yet allowM, than man. — 
•' Who, motion, foreign to the smallest grain, 
*' Shot through vast masses of enormous weight ? 
" Who bid brute matter's restive lump assume 
*' Such various forms, and gave it wings to fly ? 
♦* Has matter innate motion 1 Then each atom, 
" Asserting its indisputable right 
•' To dance, would form an universe of dust. 
♦' Has matter none ? Then whence these glorious foriKS, 
•' And boundless flights, from shapeless and repos'd? 
" Has matter more than motion? Has it thougiit, 
" Judgment, and genius? Is it deeply learn'd 
" In mathematics ? Has it fram'd such laws, 
" Which, but to guess, a Newton made immortal?— 
♦■ If so, how each sage atom laughs at me, 
" Who think a clod inferior to a man ! 
" If art, to form ; and counsel, to conduct ; 
'• And that with greater fa:.' tfcaa bumau Eki]! i 



THE CONSOLATION. 201 

" Resides not in each block; a Godhead reigns. 

" Grant, then, invisible, eternal, Mind; 

" That granted, all is solved. — But, granting that, 

*' Draw I not o'er me a still darker cloud ? 

" Grant I not that which I can ne'er conceive? 

" A being without origin or end ! 

" Hail, human liberty ! There is no God— 

" Yet, why '? On either scheme that knot subsists ; 

*' Sulsist it must, in God, or human race : 

" If in the last, how many knots 1 eside, 

" Indissoluble all? — Why choose it there, 

" Where, chosen, still subsist ten thousand more ? 

«' Reject it, where, that chosen, all the rest 

•' Dispers'd, leave reason's whole horison clear ! 

" This is not reason's dictate ; reason says, 

•' Close with the side where one grain turns the scale ; 

" What vast preponderance is hers ! Can reason 

«' With louder voice exclaim— Believe a God ! 

"And reason heard, is the sole mark of man. 

" What things impossible must man think true 

" On any other system 1 And how strange 

" To disbelieve, through mere credulity !" 

If, in this chain, Lorenzo finds no flaw, 
Let it for ever bind him to belief. 
And where the link, in which a flaw he finds? 
And if a God there is, that God how great I 
How great that pow 'r, whose providential care 
Through these bright orbs' dark centres dart a ray i 
Oi nature universal threads the whole! 
And hangs creation, like a precious gem, 
Though little, on the footstool of his throne. 

That little gem, how large ! a weight let fall 
From a fixt star, in ages can it reach 
This distant earth? Say, then, Lorenzo, where. 
Where ends this mighty building ? Where begin 
The suburbs of creation ? Where the wall 
Whose battlements look o'er into the vale 
Of non-exi'5tence , nothing's strange abode ? 
Say, at what point of space Jehovah dropp'd 
His slacken'd line, and laid his balance by ; 
Weigh'd worlds, and measur'd infinite, no more'? 
Where rears his terminating pillar high 
Its extra-mundane head; and says, to gods, 
In characters illustrious as the sun, 

I dandy the plan's proud period ; I pronounce 

The work accomplish' (i / the creation cWd : . 

1 2 



202 THE CONSOLATION. Mght 11 

shout, nil t/i gods ! nor shont, ye gods, alont ; 
Of all that lives, or, if devoid of life. 
That rests, or rolls, ye heights, and depths, rtsoimd ! 
Resound ! resound ! ye depths, and heights resound .' 

Hard are tho?e questions ? — Answer harder still. 
l3 this the sole exploit, the single birth, • 
The solitary son of power divine ? 
Or has the Almighty Father with a breath, 
Impregnated the -womb of distant space ? 
Has he not bid in various provinces, 
Brother-creations the dark bo^vel.s burst 
Of night primeval; barren, now, no more ? 
And he the cenfral i^un, transpiercing all 
Those giant generations, which disport, 
And dance, as motes, in his meridian ray : 
That ray, withdrawn, benighted, or absoVb'd, 
In that abyss of horror, whence they sprung; 
While chaos triumphs, repossess'd of ail 
Rival creation ravish'd from his throne ? 
Chaos ! of nature botli the womb, and grave ! 

Think'st thou,my scheme, Lorenzo, spreads too wide? 
Is this extravagant ? — iVo ; this is just ; 
.lust, in conjecture, tbough 'twere false in fact. 
If 'tis an error, 'tis an error sprung 
From noble root, high thought of the most high. 
Rut wherefore error? Who can prove it such.' 
He that can set Omnipotence a bound. 
Can man conceive beyond what God can do ? 
Nothing, but quite inipossible, is hard. 
He summons into being, with like ease, 
A whole creation, and a single grain. 
Speaks he the word? a thousand world;? are born !-^ , 
A thousanii worlds? There's space for millions more '■ 
And in what space can his great fiat fail ? 
Condemn me not, cold critic ! but indulge 
The warm imagination: Why condemn? 
Why not indulge such thoughts, as swell our hearts 
With fuller admiration of that power, 
Who gives our hearts with such high thoughts to gwell ? 
Why not indulge in his augmented praise ? 
Darts not his glory a still brighter ray, 
The less is left to chaos, and the realms 
Of hideous night, where fancy strays aghast; 
And though most talkative, makes no report? 

Still seems my thought enormous ? Think again— 
Experience' self shall aid thy lame belief. 



THE CONSOLATION. 203 

fiiasses (that revelation to the sight !) 
Have they not let us in the deep disclose 
Of fine-spun nature, exquisitely small. 
And, though demonstrated, still ill-conceiv'd ? 
It" then, on the reverse, the mind would mount 
In magnitude, what mind can mount too far, 
To keep the balance-, and creation poise 1 
Defect alone can err on such a theme; 
What is too great, if we the cause survey? 
J?tupendous Architect ! Thou ! Thou art all I 
My soul flies up and down in thoughts of Thee, 
And finds herself but at the centre still ! 
1 AM, thy name ! existence, all thine own I 
Creation's nothing; flatter'd much, ifstyl'd 
" The thin, the fleeting atmosphere of God. " 

O for the voice — of what? of whom ? — What voice 
Can answer to my wants, in such ascent. 
As dares to deem one universe too small ? 
Tell me, Lorenzo ! (for now fancy glows, 
Fir'd in the vortex of Almighty power) 
Is not this home-creation, in the map 
Of universal nature, as a speck. 
Like fair Britannia in our little ball; 
Lxceedingfair, and glorious, for its size, 
But, elsewhere, far out-measur'd, far outshone ! 
In fancy (for the fact beyond us lies) 
Canst thou not figure it, an isle, almost 
Too small for notice, in the vast of being ; ' 
t^ever'd by mighty seas of unbuilt space, 
From other realms : from ample coutineiits 
Of higher life, where nobler natives dwell : 
Less northern, less remote from Deity. 
Glowing beneath the line of the Supreme ; 
Where souls in excellence make haste, put forth 
I-uxuriant growths ; nor the late autumn wait 
Of human worth, but ripen soon to gods I 

Yet why drown fancy in auch depths as these? 
Return, presumptuous rover ! and confess 
The bounds of man; nor blame them, as too smalJ. 
Knjoy we not full scope in what is seen ? 
Full ample the dominions of the sun ! 
Full glorious to behold ! How far, how wide, 
The matchless monarch, from his flaming throne, 
Lavish of lustre, throws his beams about him, 
Farther and faster, than a thought can fly, 
And feeds his planets with eternal lir^B 1 
Tiiis Hc-Uopolis, by -rgater far, 



,204 THE CONSOLATION. Night IX. 

Than the proud tyrant of the Nile, was built ; 
And he alone, who built it, can destroy. 
Beyond this city, why straj's human thought "' 
One wonderful, enough for man to know I 
One infinite enough for man to range ! 
One firmament, enough for man to read ! 
O what voluminous instruction here! 
What page of wisdom is denied him ? None ; 
If learning his chief lesson makes him wise. 
Nor is instruction, here, our only gain ; 
There dwells a noble pathos in the skies. 
Which warms our passions, proselytes our hearts 
How eloiuenily shines the glowing pole ! 
With what authority it gives its charge, 
demonstrating great truths in style sublime. 
Though silent^ loud .' heard earth around ; above 
The planets heard ; and not unheard in hell ; 
Hell has her wonder, though too proud to praise. 
Is earth, then, more infernal? Has she those, 
Who neither praise (I/Orenzo '.) nor admire ? 

Lorenzo's ailnjiralion, pre-engag'd, 
Ne'er ask'd the moon one question : never hold 
Least correspondence with a single star; 
Ne'er rear'd an altar to the Queen of heaven 
Walking in brightness ; or her train ador'd. 
Their sublunary rivals have long since 
Engross'd his whole devotion; stai-s malign, 
Which marie their fond astronomer run mad. 
Darken his intellect, corrupt his heart; 
Cause him to sacrifice his fame and peace 
To momentary madness, call'd delight. 
Idolater, more gross than ever kiss'd 
The lifted hand'to Luna, or pour'd out 
The blood to Jove !— O Thou to whom belongs 
All sacrifice ! O Thou great Jove unfeign'dl 
Divine Instructor! thy first volume this, 
For man's perusal; all in capitals ! 
In moon and stars (heaven's golden alphabet !) 
Emblaz'd to seize the sight; who runs, may read, 
W'ho reads, can understand. 'Tis unconfiu'd 
To Christian land or Jewry ; fairly writ, 
In language universal, to mankind: 
A language lofty to the learn'd, yet plain 
To those that feed the flock, or fuide the plough, 
Or, from its husk, strike out the boun'ling grain. 
A language, worthy the great mind, that speaks ! 
Preface, 'and Qprnmeot, to the sacred page ! 



THE CONSOLATION. 20^ 

rhich oft refers its reader to the skies, 
4a pre-supposing his first lesson there, 
A.nd scripture-self a fragment, that imread. 
stupendous book of wisdom, to the -wise ! 
Stupendous book! and open'd. Night, by thee. 

By thee much open'd, I confess, O Night . 
Yet more I wish; but how shall I prevaiH 
Siy, gentle Night ! whose modest, maiden beam? 
Give us a new creation, and present 
The world's great picture soften'd to the sight ; 
Nay, kinder far, far more indulgent still, 
8ay, thou, whose mild dominion's silver key 
Unlocks our liemisphere, and sets to view 
Worlds beyond number-, worlds conceal'd by^^y 
Behind the proud and envious star of noon I 
Canst thou not draw a deeper scene?— And 8ho\r 
The mighty Potentate, to whom belong 
These rich regalia pompously display 'd 
To kindle that high hope ! Like him of Uz,* 
I o-aze around ; I search on ev'ry side— 
ol"or a glimpse of Him my soul adores . 
As the chas'd hart, amid the desert waste, 
I'ants for the living stream ; for Him who made her, 
fco pants the thirsty soul, amid the blank 
Of sublunary joys. ?ay, goddess! where, 
Where blazes his bright court ? Where burns his throne? 
Thou know'st ; for thou art near hira ; by thee round 
His grand pavilion, sacred fame reports, 
The sa!)le curtain drawn. If not, can none 
Of thy fair daughter-train, so swift of wing. 
Who travel far, discover where he dwells '. 
A star his dwelling pointed out below. t 
Ye Pleiades ! Arcturus ! Mazaroth ! 
And thou, Orion !J of still keener eye ! 
Say ye, who guide the wilder'd in the waves, 
And bring them out of tempest into port. 
On which hand must I bend my course to find HuBl 
These courtiers keep the secret of their K-mg; 
I wake whole nights, in vain, to steal it irom them. 
I wake ; and, waking, climb night's radiant scale, 
From sphere to sphere; the steps by nature set 
For man's ascent; at once to tempt and aid ; 
To tempt his eve, and aid histow'ring thought. 
Till it arrives at the great goal of all. 

* Job. t Mat. ii. 2. . ,^ , 

\ Names 0/ several constellations in the heavens. 



3C»C THE CONSOLATION. Hight , 

In ardent contemplation's rapid car, 
From earth, as from my barrier, I setout. 
How swift 1 mount! Diminish'd earth recedes; 
T pass the moon ; and, from her farther side," 
Pierce heaven's blue curtain ; strike into remote ; 
Where with his lifted tube, the subtle sage 
His artificial, a)r>- journey takes, 
And to celestial lengthens human sight. 
I pause at ev'ry planet on my road. 
And ask for Him who gives their orbs to roll, 
Their foreheads fair to shine. From Saturn's rin;:, 
la which, of earths an army might be lost, 
With the bold comet, take my bolder flight, 
.Amid those sov'rei^rn glories of the skies, 
Of independent, native lustre proud; 
The souls of systems; and the lords of life. 
Through their v.ide empires ! — What behold I noM- 
A wilderner;3 of wonders burning round; 
Where larger suns inhabit higher spheres; 
Perhaps the villas of descending gods ! 
Not bait I here; my toil is but begun ; 
"Tis but the threshold of the Deity; 
Or, far beneath it, I am grov'liiig still, 
ivior is it strange : I built on a niistake ; 
The grandeur of his works, whence folly sought 
¥oT aid, to reason sets his glory higher"; 
Who built thus high for v.orms (mere worms to him;. 
O where, Lorenzo! must ihe builder dwell ? 

Pause, then ; and for a momeiit, here respire — 
If human thought can keep its station here. 
Where am I? Wheie is earth?— iVay, where art tliOi 
<) sun! — Is tiie.sun turn'd recluse? — And are 
Hii boasted expeditious short to mine 1 
To mine, how siiort ! On nature's Alps 1 stand, 
And see a thousand firmaments beneath ! 
.\ thousand systems ! as a thou.-;3nd grains ! 
'So fiuich a stranger, and so late arriv'd, 
J-iow can man's curious spirit not inquire, 
■\Vhat are the natives of this world subiimp, 
Of this BO foreign, unterrestrial .sphere. 
Where mortal untruuslated, never stray'd ■ 

•' O ye, as distant from my little home, 
•• As swiftest sun-beams in an age can Hy ! 
" Far from my native element I roam, 
" lu queit of "new and wonderful to man. 
•' What province this, of his im.mense domiJn, 
•' '\.'Kiis a!! obev i Or mortala here, cr god*; 



THE COXSOLATIOKT. 267 

Yebord'rers on the coasts of bliss? What are you ? 

A colony from heav'n ? Or only rais'd. 

By frequent visit from heaven's neighbouring realms 

To secondary gods, and half divine ? — 

Whate'er your nature, this is. past dispute, 

Far other life you live, far other tongue 

You talk, far other thought, perhaps you think, 

Than man. How various are the works of God? 

But say, what thought! Is reason here enthron'J, 

And absolute ? Or sense in arms against her? 

,Have you two lights 1 Or need you no reveal'd? 

Enjoy your happy realms their golden age 1 

And had your Lden an abstemious Eve ? 

Our Eve's fair daughters prove their pedigree, 

And ask their Adams — ' Who would not be wise ?' 

Or, if your mother fell, are you redeem'd? 

And if redeem'd — is your redeemer scorn'd? 

Is this your final residence ? If not, 

Change you your scene, translated ? Or by death? 

And if by death. What death? — Know you disease? 

Or horrid war? — With war, this fatal hour, 

Europa groans (so call we a small field, 

Wheie kings run mad.) In our world, death deputes 

Intemperance to do the work of age! 

And hanging up the quiver nature gave him, 

As slow of execution, for despatch 

Sends forth imperial butchers ; bii^s them slay 

Their sheep (the silly sheep they fleec'd before) 

And toss him twice ten thousand at a meal. 

Sit all your executioners on thrones ? 

With you, can rage for plunder make a God? 

And bloodshed wash out ev'ry other stain ? — 

Biit you, perhaps, can't bleed : From matter gross 

Your spirits clean, are delirately clad 

In fine-spim ether, privileg'd to soar. 

Unloaded, uninfected : How unlike 

The lot of man ! How fi=w of human race 

By their own mud unmurder'd ! Howwe wage 

Self-war eternal l—ls your painful day 

Of hardy conflict o'er ? Or are you still 

Raw candidates at school? And have you those 

Who disaffect reversions, as witlj us ?— 

But what are we ? You never heard of man. 

Or earth; the Bedlam of the universe ' 

Where reason (undiseas'd with you) runs mad, 

And nurses Folly's children as her own ; 

Fqnd of the foulest. Id the sacred mount 



208 THE CONSOLATION. mgkl iM 

" Of holiness, where reason is pronounc'd f 

"' Infallible, and thunders like a god; 
" E'en there, by saints, the dasraons are outdone : 
" What these think wrong, our saints refine to right! 
' And kindly teach dull hell her o-»vn black arts; 
*' Satan, instructed, o'er their moral smiles. — 
"' But this how strange to you, who know not man ! 
*' Has the least rumour of our race arriv'd? 
•^» Call'd here Elijah in his flaming car?* 
•« Past by you the good Enoch,| on his road 
»' To those fair fields, whence Lucifer was hurl'd: 
*' Who brush'd, perhaps, your spheres in his descent; 
" Stain'd your pure crystal ether, or let fall 
•' A short eclipse from his portentous shade? 
•' O ! that the fiend had lodg'd on some broad orb 
*' Athwart his way; nor reach'd his present home, 
" Then blacken'd earth with footsteps foul'd in heli, 
•' Nor wash'd in ocean, as from Rome he past, 
*' To Britain's isle; too, too, conspicuous there?" 

But this is all digression ; Where is He, 
That o'er heaven's battlements the felon hurl'd, 
To groans, and chains, and darkness? Where is He 
Who sees creation's summit in a a ale? 
He, whom, while man is man, he can't but seek; 
And if he finds, commences more than man ? 
O for a telescope His throne to reach ! 
Tell rae, ye learn'd on earth ! or blest above ! 
Ye searching, ye Newtonian angels ! tell, 
Where your great Master's orb ! His planets where- 
Those conscious satellites, those morning-stars, 
First-born of Deity I From central love, 
By veneration most profound, thrown off; 
By sweet attraction, no less strongly drawn; 
Aw'd and yet raptur'd, raptur'd, yet serene ; 
I'ast thought, illustrious, but with borrow'd beams;. 
In still approaching circles, still remote, 
■Revolving round the sun's eternal Sire ! 
Or, sent in lines direct on embassies 
To nations— in what latitude?— Beyond 
Terrestrial thought's horizon ! — And on what 
High errand sent ?-7-Here human effort ends ; 
And leaves me still a stranger to his throne. 

Full well it might ! I quite mistook my road. 
Born in an age more curious than devout; 
More fond to fix the place of heaven, or hell, 

* 2 Kin^s, ii, ] 1, f Gaicsis, v. 24. 



THE COJfSOLATIOiY. 209 

Than studious this to shun, or that secure. 
|Tis not the curious, but the pious path, 
That leads me to my point : Lorenzo ! know, 
Without or star, or angel, for their guide, 
Who worship God, shall find him. Humble love, 
And not proud reason, keeps the door of heaven ■ 
Lore finds admission, where proud science fails ' 
Man's science is the culture of his heart ; 
And not to lose his plummet in the depths 
Of nature, or the more profound of God. 
Either to know, is an attempt that sets 
The wisest on a level with the fool. 
To fathom nature (ill-attempted here !) 
Past doubt, is deep philosophy above ; 
Higher degrees in bliss archangels take, 
As deeper learn'd; the deepest, learning s-tilF 
i"or what a thunder of Omnipotence 
(So might I dare to speak !) Is seen in all ! 
In man ! in earth .' in more amazing skies ! 
Teaching this lesson, pride is loath to learn— 
" Not deeply to discern, not much to know. 
Mankind was born to wonder, and adore." 
And is there cause for higher wonder, still. 
Than that which struck us from our past survey.s ',■ 
Yes ; and for deeper adoration too, 
From my late airy travel unconfin'd, 
Have I learn'd nothing? Yes, Lorenzo ! This • 
Each of these stars is a religious house ; 
I saw their altars smoke, their inceme rise. 
And heard hosannahs ring through ev'ry sphere^ 
A seminary fraught with future gods. 
Nature all o'er is consecrated ground, 
Teeming with growths immortal, and divine. 
The great Proprietor's all-bounteous hand 
Leaves nothing waste but sows these fiery fields 
WithseedsofreasoD,which to virtues rise 
Beneath his genial ray ; and, if escap'd 
The pestilential blasts of stubborn will, 
When grown mature, are gather'd for the skies. 
And is devotion thought too much on earth, 
When beings so superior, homage boast. 
And triumph in prostrations to the Throne ? 
But wherefore more ofplanets, or of stars? 
Ethereal journies, and discover'd there, 
Ten thousand worlds, ten thousand ways deVOUt, 
All nature sending incense to the throne, 
Except tbe bold Lojcoios of ow sphere r 



1 

210 THE CONSOLATION. Night IX.i 

Op'ning the solemn sources of my soul, 

Since I have pour'd, like feign'd Eridanus, 

My flowing numbers o'er the flaming skies, 

Nor see, oi' fancy, or of fact, what more 

Invites the muse — Here turn we and review 

Our past nocturnal landscape wide : — then say, 

Say, then, Lorenzo I with what burst of heart, 

The whole, at once, revolving in his thought, 

Must man exclaim, adoring, and, aghast, 

' ' O what a root ! O what a branch is here ! , 

" O what a father ! what a faniHy ! 

" Worhis ! systems ! and creations ? — And creations, 

" In one agglomerated cluster hung, 

" *Great Vine ! on Thee, on Thee the cluster hangs; 

" The filial cluster .' infinitely spread 

'•' In glowing globes, with various being fraught; 

" And drinks (nectareous draught !) immortal life ; 

" Or, shall I say (for who can say enough ?) 

' ' A constellation of ten thousand gems 1 

" And O, of what dimensinns ! of what weight! 

" Set in one signet, flames on the right hand 

" Of Majesty Divine ! The blazing seal, 

" That deeply stamps, on all created minds, 

" Indelible, His sov'reign attributes, 

" Omnipoten.'e,and Love! That, passing bound 

" And this surpassing that. Nor stop we here, 

" For W5int of poi\'r in God, but thought in man. 

" E'on this acknowledg'd leaves us still in debt ; 

•' Ifgreatcr aught, that greater all is thine, 

" Dread Sire '—Accept this miniature of Thee ; 

•' A-nd pardon an attempt from mortal thought, 

" 111 which archangels might have fail'd unblam'd." 

How such ideas of th' Almighty's pow'r, 
Andsuch ideas oi th' Almighty's plan, 
( Ideas not absurd) distend the thought 
Of ftr'jlf; mortals ! nor of them alone ! 
The fulness oribe Deity breaks forth 
in inconceiva'lestomenandgods. 
Think , then, O think ; nor ever drop the thought ; 
How low must man descend, when gods adore I — 
Have I not. then, accompli h'd my proud boast? 
j)i<l I m^t tell thee, " We would mount Lorenzo! 
'• And kindle our devotion at the stars?" 

And have I faii'd !— And did I tlatter thee ? 
A D(J art all a lamant I And dost confute 

>= -/(..'(.ft XV ] 



THE CONSOLATION^. 2i] 

All urg'd, with OBe irrefragable smile ? 

Lorenzo ! Mirth how miserahle here 1 

Swear by the stars, by Hl>.\ who made them, swear, 

Thy heart, henceforth, shall be as pure as they : 

Then thou, like them, shalt shine -, like them shalt rise 

From low to lofty : from obscure to bright ; 

By due gradation, natu'-e's sacred law. 

The stars from whence ?— Ask chaos— He can tell. 

These bright temptations to idolatry. 

From darkness and confusion, took their birth ; 

Sons of deformity : From fluid dregs 

Tartarean, first tney rose to masses rude ; 

And then to spheres opaque ; then dimly shone ; 

Then brighten'd ; then blaz'd out in perfect day. 

Nature delights in progress ; in ad vance 

From worse to better : but, when Qund.s ascend, 

Progress in part, depends upon themselves. 

Heav'u aids exertion; greater makes the great. 

The voluntary little lessens more. 

O be a man, and thou shalt be a god ! 

And half self made '.—Ambition how divine I 

O thou ambitious of disgrace alone ! 
Still undevout ! LTnkindled !— Though high taught, 
School'd by the skies; and pupil of the stars; 
Kank coAvard to the Cphionable world ! 
Art thou ashana'd to Bend tliy knee to heaven ? 
Curst fume of pride, ^hal'd from deepest hell ; 
Pride in religion is man's highest praise. 
Bent on destruction \ and in love with death ! 
Not all these lumiuaries, quench'd at once, 
Were half so sad, as one benighteii mind, 
Which gropes for happiness, and meets desp?i:i 
How, like a widow, in her weeds the night. 
Amid her giimm'ring taperfj, silent sits ! 
How sorrowful, how desolate, she v eeps 
Perpetusl dews, and snddens nature's scene ! 
A scene more sad sinraakesthe darken'd soul, 
All comfort kills, nor leaves one spark alive. 

Though blind of heart, still open is thine eye : 
Why such magnificence in all thou seest ? 
Of matter's grandeur, know, one end is this, 
To tell the rational who gazes on it— 
" Thoughthat immensely great, still greater He, 
" Whose breast, capacious, can embrace, and lodge, 
" Unburden'd, nature's universal scheme ; 
" Can grasp creation with a single tiiought : 
■*' Creatioc grasp, and cot exclude its Sire." 



212 THE CONSOLATION. mghl IX. 

To tell him farther " It behoves him much 

" To guard the important, yet depending fate 
" Of being, brighter than a thousand suns ! 

" One single ray of thought outshines them all." 

And if man hears ohedient, soon he'll soar 
Superior heights, and on his purple wing, 
His purple ■wing bedrojip'd with eyes of gold, 
Hising, where thought is no-sr denied to rise. 
Look down triumphant on these dazzling spheres. 

Why then persist ! — No mortal ever liv'd 
Hut, dying, he pronounc'd.(wiien words are true) 
The w hole that charms thee, absolutely vain ; 
Vain, and far worse ! — Think thou with dying men ; 
O condescend to thin!; asaneels think ! 
O toJerate a chance for happiness ! 
Our nature such, ill choice ensures ill fate; 
And hell had been, though there iiad been no Goi 
Uostt.hou not know, my new astronomer ! 
Earth turning from the sun, brings night to man ! 
Man turning from his God, brings endless night; 
Where thou canst read no morals, rind no friend, 
Amend no manners, and expect no peace. 
How deep the darluiess I and the groan how loud I 
And far, how far from lambent are the flames ! 
Such is Lorenzo's purchase ! sijfli his praise 1 
The proud, the politic, Lorenzo s praise ! 
Though in his ear, and levell'dat his lieart, 
I've half read o'er the volume of the skies. 

For think not thou hast heard all this from me; 
My song but echoes what great nature speaks. 
What has she spoken ! Thus the goddess spoke. 
Thus speaks for ever :— " Plac'd at Nature's headr . 
*' A Sov'reigo, which o'er all things rolls his eye, 
" Extends his wing, promtdgates his commands, 
" Rut, above all, diifuses endless good; 
" To whom for sure redre-ss, the wrong'd mayfly; 
" The vile for mercy ; and the pain'd for peace ; 
" By whom the various ten-mts of these spheres, 
" Diversified in fortunes, place, and powers, 
" Rais'd in enjoyment, as i;i worth they rise 
" Arrive at lenirth (if worthy such approach) 
" At that blest fountain-head, from which tiieystreaai 
" Where coniiict past redoubles present joy; 
" An<i present joy looi:s forv.ardon increase; 
" And that on more; on period ! ev'ry step 
" A double boon ! a promise, and a bliss." 
How easy sits this sc'aeme on human hearts I 



THE CONSOLATION. 21; 

suits their make ! it sooths their vast dciires • 
issjon IS pleas'd, and reason aslcs no more • ' 

IS rational ! 'Tis great l—liui what is thine ' 

darkens ! shocks ! excruciates ! and confounds ' 
eaves ns quite naked, both of help and hope, " " 
nkmg from b^d to worse ; few years, the sport 
t lortuiie ; then, the morsel of despair 
.^ay then, Lorenzo ! (for thou know'st it well) 

hat s vice ? Mei;e want of compass in our thought 
ehgion what ?- The proof of common sense ; 
ow art tliou hooted, where the last prevails ' 

it my fault, if these truths call thee fool ' 
nd thou slialt never be miscali'd by me 
in neither shame, nor terror, stand thy friend ? 
16 art thou still an insect in the mire ' 
ow, like thy guardian angel, have I floivn- 
latch d thee from earth; escorted thee through aL 
^ ethereal armies ; walk'd thee, like a god, 
irough splendours of first magnitude, arrangVl 
1 either hand; clouds thrownl^eneath thy feet- 
ose-cruis'd on the bright paradise of God • 
Id almost introduc'd thee to the throne ! 
Id art thou still carousing for delight, 
ink poison ; first, fermenting to mere froth, 
id then subsiding into final gall ] 
i beings of sublime, immortal make, 
jw shocking is all joy, whose end is sure ! 
ch joy more shocking sliil, the more it charms J 
Id dost thou choose what ends, ere well begun, 
id infamous, as short ? And dost thou chooj^e 
hou, to wliose palate glory is so sweet) 
) wade into perdition, through contempt, 
3t of poor bigots only, but thy own '! 
<r I have pcep'd into thy cover'd heart, 
id seen it blush beneath a boastful brow ; 
r, by strong guilt's most violent assault, 
nscience is but disabled, not destroy'd. 
J thou most awful being, and most vain ! 
ly will how frail ! How glorious is thv power '. 
lOugh dread eternity has soun her seeds 
bliss, and wo, in thy despotic breast; 
lough heaven, and hell, depend upon thy choice 
butterfly comes cross, and both are fled, 
this the picture of a rational ? 
lis horrid image, shall it be most just ? 
renzo ! No: It cannot— shall not be, 
Uiere h force in reasoa ; or, 'm souud?. 



214 THE CONSOLATION. Tfigh 

Chanted beneath the glimpses of the moon, 
4. magic, at this planetary hour. 
When slumber locks the gen'ral lip, and dreams 
Through senseless mazes hunt souls uniuspir'd. 
Attend— The sacred mysteries begin— 
My solemn night-born adjuration hear : 
Hear, and I'll raise thy spirit from the dust; 
While the stars g:^ze on this enchantment new ; 
Enchantment not infernal, but divine ! 

'• By silence, death's peculiar attribute; 
'• By darkness, guilt's inevitable doom ! 
" By darkness, and by silence, sisters dread ! 
" That draw the curtain round night's ebon throne*^' 
• And raise ideas, solemn as the scene ! 
'' By night, sAid all of awful night presents 
" To thought or sense (of awful much, to both, 
'' The goddess brings !) By these her trembling firew 
" Like Vesta's, ever burning; and, like hers, 
" Sacred to thoughts immaculate, and pure ! _ 
" By these bright orators, that prove, and praise, 
" And press thee to revere the DEITY; _ 
'• Perhaps, too, aid thee, when rever'd a while, 
" To reacli his throne; as stages of the soul, 
" Through which, at dift"rent periods, she shall pati 
>• Refining gradual, for her final height, 
'^ And purging oft" some dross at ev'ry sphere. 
" By this dark pall thrown o'er the silent world ! 
" By the world's kings, and kingdoms, most renow.l 
'■ From short ambition's zenith set for ever ; 
" Sad presage to vain boasters, now in bloom . 
'' By the long list of swift mortality, 
" From Adam downward to this ev'nmg knell, 
'■ Which midnight waves in fancy's startled eye; 
" And shocks her with an hundred centuries, 
" Round death's black banner throug'd m human thl 
" By thousands, now resigning their last breath, 
"And calling thee — wert thou so wise to hear . 
" By tombs o'er tombs arising; human earth 
'' Elected, to make room for— human earth ; 
» The monarch's terror ! and the sexton's trade. 
" Bv pompous obsequies, that shun the day, 
" The torcli funereal, and the nodding plume, 
" Which makes poor man's humiliation proud; 
" Boast of our ruin ! Triumph of our dust . 
'■ By the damp vault that weeps o'er roya bones:. 
" And the pale lamp that shows the ghastly dead ; 
^ Wore ghasUy, through the thick incumbent glo( 



THE CONSOLATION. 2i 

y visits (if there are) from darker scene's, 
he gliding sceptre ! and the groaning grave '■ 
y groans, and graves, and miseries that groan 
or the grave's shelter ! By desponding men, 

nseless to pains of death, from pange of guilt ! 
y guilt's last audit ! By yon moon in blood, 
he rocking firmament, the falling stars, 
nd thunder's last discharge, great nature's kneil • 
y second chaos : and eternal night" — 
wise — Nor let Philander blame my charm; 

own not ill-dlscharg'd my double debt, 
e to the living; duty to "the dead, 
or know, I'm but executor; he left 
moral legacy ! I make it o'er 
s command ; Philander hear in me ; 
\ heaven in both— If deaf to these. Oh ! hear 
rella's tender voice ; his weal depends 
thy resolve ; it trembles at thy choice ; 

his sake— love thyself: Exafftple strikes 
human hearts ; a bad example more ; 
re still a father's ; that ensures his ruin, 
parent of his being, wouldst thou prove 

unnatural parent of his miseries, 

I make him curse the being which thou gav'st 1 
his the Messing of so fond a father? 

areless of Lorenzo ! spare, Oh ! spare, 
relic's father, and Philander's friend; 
relic's father ruin'd, ruins him ; 
\ from Philander's friend the world expects 
onduct, no dishonour to the dead. 

passion do, what nobler motive should ; 

love, and emulation, rise in aid 
reason ; and persuade thee to be — l«lest. 
'his seems not a request to be defied; 
; (such th' infatuation of mankind '.) 
i the most hopeless, man can make to man. 

II I, then, ri.i;e in argumeni, and warmth; 
1 urge Philander's posthumous advice, 

m tonics yet unbroach'd? 

. Ob ! I faint ! My spirits fail !— Nor strange ! 
ang on wing, and in no midcie clime ; 
which my great Creator's glory cail'd ; 
i calls— but, now, in vain. Sleep's dewy wand 
! strok'd my drooping lids, and promises 
long arrear of rest ; the dow ny god 
3nt to return with our returning peace) 
1 pay, ere lotg, ap.d Lies'? me v, ith repose. 



216 THE CONSOLATION. Tiight L 

Haste, haste, sweet stranger ! from the peasant's cot 
The ship-boy's hdinmock, or the soldier's straw, 
Whence sorrow never chas'd thee; with thee brings 
Not hideous visions, as of late; but draughts 
Delicious of well-tasted, cordial, rest; 
Man's rich restorative ; his balmy buth. 
That supples, lubricates, and keeps in play. 
The various movements of this nice machine, 
Which asks such frequent periods of repair. 
When tir'd with vain rotations of the day, 
Sleep winds us up for the succeeding dawn; 
Fresh we spin on, till sickness clogs our wheels. 
Or death quite breaks the spring and motion ends, 
When will it end with me ? 



Thou only know'st ! 



" Thou ! whose broad eye, the future, and the past,, 

" Joins to tlie present, making one of three 

" To mortal thought ! Thou know'st, and thou alonef 

•' All-knowing ! All unknown ! And yet well known 

*' Near, though remote ! and, though unfathom'd felrj 

*' And though invisible for ever seen 

" And seen in all ! The great and the minute ; 

'• Each globe above, with its gigantic race, 

" Each flower, each leaf, with its small people swarroi' 

*' (Those puny vouchers of Omnipotence !) 

♦• To the first thought, that asks ' From whence ?' di 

clare 
" Their common source. Thou fountain running o'l] 
" In rivers of communicated joy ! 
'• Who gav'st us speech for far, far humbler themes ! 
" Say, by what name shall I presume to call 
•' Hirb I see burning in these countless suns, 
" As Moses in the bush.* Illustrious mind ! 
'« The whole creation, less, far less, to thee, 
•' Than that to the creation's ample round. 
•' How shall I name thee ? — How my labouring soul 
♦* Heaves underneath the thought, too big for birth ! 

" Great system of perfection ! Mighty cause 
" Of causes mighty .' cause uncaus'd ! Sole root 
" Of nature, that luxuriant growth of God ! 
«• First father of effects ! that progeny 
" Of endless series ; where the golden chain's 
" liast link admits a period, who can tell ? 
'• Father of all that is, or heard, or hears ! 

Exod. jii. 3, 



THE CONSOLATION. 1:!7 

' Father of all that is, or seen, or sees! 

Father of all that is, or shall arise ! 
' Father of this immeasurable mass 

Of matter multiform ; or dense, or rare ; 
' Opaque, or lucid ; rapid, or at rest; 
' Minute, or passing bound ' In each extreme 

Of JiL-e amaze, and mj'Stery, toman. 

Father of these 'iright millions of the night! 

Of which the least full godhead had proclaim'd, 

And thrown the gazer on his knee — Or, say, 

Is appellation higher still, thy choice? 

Father of matter's temporary lords ! 
' Father ot spirits ! Nobler offspring ! sparks 
' Of high paternal glory ; rich-endow'd 
' With various measures, and with various modes 
' Of instinct, reason, intuition: beams 
' More pale, or bright from day divine, to break 
' The dark of matter organiz'd (the ware 
' Of all created spirit ;) beams, that rise 
' Each over other in superior light, 
' Till the last ripens into lustre strong, 
' Of next approach to godhead. Father fond 
i (Far fonder than e'er bore that name on earth) 
' Of intellectual beings ' beings blest 
" With pow'rs to please thee; not of passive ply 
[■' To laws they know not; beings lodg'd in seats 
r Of well-adapted joys, in diff'rcnt domes 
I" Of this imperial palace for thy sons ; 
[" Of this proud, populous, well-policied, 
'" Though boundless habitation, plann'd by thee; 
[" Whose several clans their several climates suit; 
'" And transposition, doubtless, would destroy. 
*' Or, oh ! indulge, Immortal King ! indulge 
'* A title less august indeed, but more 
" Endearing; ah ! how sweet in human ears, 
" Sweet in our ears, and triumph in our hearts t 
♦* Father of Immortality to man ! 
" A theme that* lately set my soul on fire — 
" And thou the next ! yet equal ! Thou, by whom 
" That blessing was convey'd ; far more ! was bought; 
" Inefable the price ! by whom all worlds 
" We e made; and one, redeem'd! illustrious light 
«' From light illustrious I Thou whose regal power 
*' Finite in time, but inf.nite in space, 
" On more than adamantiut' basis fis'd, 

* ISights the Sixth and Seventh . 
K 



218 THE C0NS0LATI02\r. I\'igiu jx 

«' O'er more, far more, than diadems and throne" 

•' Inviolably reigns ; the dread of gods ! "' 

" And, Oh ! the friend of man ! beneath whose foo* 

" And by the mandate of whose awful nod, 

*' All regions, revolutions, fortunes, fates, 

«' Of high, of low, of mind, and matter, roll 

«' Through the short channels of expiring time, 

" Or shoreless ocean of eternity, 

♦' Calm, or tempestuous (as thy Spirit breathes) 

'» In absolute subjection! — And, O Thou 

'• The glorious third If distinct, not separate! 

" Beaming from both ! with both incorporate ! 

♦» And (strange to tell !) incorporate with dust! 

•' By condescension, as thy glory, great, 

'• EnshrinM in man ! Of human hearts, if pure, 

'• Divine inl\abitant! The tie divine 

'• Of heaven with distant earth ! by whom I trust, 

•' (If not inspir'd) uncensur'd this address 

" To thee, to them— To whom ?— Mysterious Powepi 

" Reveal'd— yet u.neveal'd ! Darkness in light ! , ' 

♦* Number in unity ! our joy ! our dread ! i 

" The triple bolt that lays all wrong in ruin! 

" That animates all right, the triple sun ! 

** Sun of the soul ! her never-setting sun! 

*' Triune, unutterable, unconceiv'd, 

«» Absconding, yet demonstrable, great God ! 

*' Greater than greatest ! better than the best! 

" Kinder than kindest! with soft pity's eye, 

" Or (stronger still to speak it) with thine own, 

" From thy bright home, from that high firmament, 

" Where thou, from all eternity, hast dwelt; 

" Beyond archangels' unassisted ken ; 

" From far above what mortals highest call; 

'* From elevation's pinnacle ! Look down, 

«' Through— what? Confounding interval ! through alJ 

" And more than lab'ring fancy can conceive, 

«' Through radiant ranks of essences unknown; 

" Through hierarchies from hierarchies detach'd; 

" Round various banners of Omnipotence, 

•♦ With endless change of rapt'rous duties fir'd; 

♦' Through wondrous beings interposing swarms, 

" All clust'ring at the call, to dwell in thee; 

" Through this wide waste of worlds ; this vista vast, 

" All sanded o'er with suns ; suns turn'd to night 

'* Before thy feeblest beam— Look down, down, down 



^TUUolijGhosl 



THE CONSOLATIOI^i'. iiS 

'' On a poor breathing particle in dust, 

*' Or lower — an immortal in his crimes. 

" His crimes forgive ; foreive his virtues too.' 

" Those smaller faults, half-converts to the- right. 

*' 'Not let me close these eyes, which never more 

" May :-ee the sun (though night's descending scale 

" Now weighs up morn) unpitied and unbless'd ! 

*' In thy displeasure dwells -rternal pain; 

" Pain, our aversion; pain, which strikes me now^ 

" And since all pain is terrible to man, 

♦' Though transient, terrible; at thy good hour, 

*' Gently, ah gently, lay me in my bed, 

•' My ciay-cold bed ! by nature, now, so near; 

" By nature; near; still nearer by disease! 

*♦ Till then, be this an emblem of iny grave : 

" Let it out-preach the preacher; ev'ry night 

" Let it out-cry the boy at Philip's* ear ; 

" That tongue of death '. That herald of the tomb I 

" And v'hen (the shelter of thy wing implor'd) 

" My srinses sooth'd, shall sink in soft repose; 

•' O siniv ':;is truth still deeper in my soul, 

*' Suggested by my pillow, sign'd by fate, 

*' First in fate's volume, at the page of man — 

*' Mn'i's nckly soul, though turn'd and toss'dj'or ever 

" Fro,\. side to side, can rest on nought but thee ; 

** Here, in full trust; hereafter, in full joy; 

♦' On thee, thepromis'd, sure, eternal down 

" Of spirits, toil'd in travel through this vale. 

" Nor of that pillow shall my soul despond ; 

*' For— Love almighty ! Love almighty! (Sing, 

»' Exult creation ; ) Love almighty, reigns ! 

" That death of death ! That cordial of despair ! 

*' And loud eternity's triumphant song ! 

" Of whom no more :— For, O thou Patron God;t 
" Thou God and mortal ! Thence more God to man i 
**']Man's theme eternall Man's eternal theme ! 
" Thou canst not 'scape uninjur'd from our praise. 
" Uninjur'd from our praise can he escape, 
" Who, disembosom'd from the Fatlier, bows 
" The heaven of heavens, to kiss the distant earth! 
" Breathes out in agonies a sinless soul ! 
" Algainstthe cross, death's iron sceptre breaks! 
" From famislrd ruin plucks her human prey; 
*• Throws wide the gate celestial to his foes! 

* Philip, king ofMacedon, 



22© THE CONSOLATION. Aighl iX 

" Their gratitude for such a boundless debt, 

" Deputes their suti''rin^ brothers to receive I 

" And, if deep human guilt in payment fails; 

" As deeper guilt prohibits our despair 1 

•' Enjoins it, as our duty to rejoice! 

'• And (to close all) omnipotently kind, 

" *Takes his delights among th-- sons of men. [heav'n? 

What words are the^e ' — And did they come from 
And -were they spoke to man ? To guilty man 1 
What are all mysteries to love like this! 
The song of angels, all the melodies 
Of choial gods, are wafted in the sound; 
Heal and exhilirate the broken heart. 
Though plung'd before, in horrors dark as night : 
Rich prelibation of consummate joy ! 
Nor wait we dissolution to be bless'd. 

This tinal effort of the moral n)use, 
How justlyt titled ! Nor for me aione : 
For all that read, what spirit of support, 
What heights of Consolation, crown my song ! 

Then farewell night ! of darkness now no more : 
Joy breaks; shines; triumphs; 'tis eternal day. 
Shall that which rises out of nought complain 
Of a few evils, paid with endless joys ? 
My soul ! henceforth, in sweetest union join 
The two supports of human happiness. 
Which some erroneous think can never meet; 
True taste of life, and constant thought of death; 
The thought of death, sole victor of its dread ! 
Hope be thy joy, and probity thy skill; 
Thy patron He, whose diadem has dropp'd 
Yon gems of heaven ; eternity, thy prize ; 
And leave tiie racers of the world their own. 
Their leather, and their froth, for endless toils: 
They part with all for that which is not ;.;ead; 
They mortify, they starve, on wealth, fame, power; 
And laugh to scorn, the fools that aim at more. 
How must d spirit, late escap'd from earth, 
(Suppose Philander's, Lucia's, or Narcissa's,) 
The truvh of things new-blazing in its eye. 
Look back, astonish'd, on the ways of men, 
Whose lives' whole drift is to forget their graves, 
And when our present privilege is past. 
To scourge us with due sense of its abuse, 
The same astonishment will seize us all. 

*Frov, Chap, viii, 31. 1 The Consolation, 



THE CONSOLATION. 2 

What then must pain us, vrould preserve us now, 
Lorenzo ! 'Us not yet too late : Lorenzo ! 
Seize wisdom, ere 'tis torment to be wise; 
That is, seize wisdom, ere she seizes thee. 
For what, my smaJl philosopher ' is hell? 
'Tis nothinj," but full knowledge of the truth, 
When truth, resisted long, is sworn our foe ; 
And calls eternity to do her right. 

Thus, darkness aiding intellectual light, 
And sacred silence whispering truths divine, 
And truths civine converting pain to peace, 
My song the midnight raven has outwing'd, 
And shot, ambitious of unbounded scenes, 
Beyond the flaming limits of the world. 
Her glooiry flight. But what aavils the flight 
Of fancy, when our hearts remain below ? 
Virtue abounds in flatterers, and foes; 
'Tis pride, to praise her; penance to perform. 
To more than words, to more than worth of tongue, 
Lorenzo ! rise, at this auspicious hour ; 
An hour, when heaven's most intimate with man 
When, liKe a falling star, the ray divine 
Glides swirt into the bosom of the just; 
And just are all, determin'd to reclaim; 
Which sets that title high, within thy reach. 
Awake then : Thy Philander calls : Awake ! 
Thou, who shalt wake, when the creation sleeps ;. 
When like a taper, all these suns expire ! 
When time, like him of Gaza* in his wrath, 
Plucking the pillars that support the world, 
In nature's ample ruins lies intomb'd ; 
And midnight, universal midnight, reigns. 

* Samson, Judges xvi. 29, 40. 



INDlEX. 



A.DDRESS to death, 9; to the great and indolent, 20; 

to the lilies, 33; to the aged, 42; to God, 44, 45, 

179, 181, 216, 217; to infidels, 47, 181 ; to the 

ocean, 142; to the day of judgment, 174; to the 
i stars and tiieir supposed inhabitants, 186, 194; to 

night, 205; toman, 213; to Jesus Christ, 219; to 

Lorenzo to awake, 221 . 
i^djuration, solemn, 217. 
Afflictions, beneficial, 178. 
i.ge and disease, harbingers of death, 40. 
lllegory on sleep, 5; on time, 18; on aged trees, 44; 

on the end of life, 45; on learning, 65. 
Utamont, death of, 69. 
Imbition and avarice, their influence, 90, 94 ; the 

true, 90; proof of immortality, 113. 
Vngels and men compared, 53. 
Annihilation, absurdities of, 123. 
Art, bad effects of, 61. 
\strology, the true, 191. 
Author's prayer for himself, 218. 

|!ell, striking of the, its import, 6. 
lible, reading of, advised, 134, 154. 
diss, earthly, its instability, 9. 
trutes, how superior to man, 112. 

hristian, his dignity, 58 ; compared to a ship at sea, 
161 ; difference between him and worldly men, 
161. 

hrist's crucifixion, 46; his life, death, &c. proofs of 
immortality, 48. 

louds, beautifully described, 181. 

omplaint of a good man on the idea of no future ex- 
istence, 120. 

ODScience, treachery of, 20; its power whence deri- 
ved, 131. 

onversation, benefits of, 25. 

reation, its end immortality, 123, 



..^ INi5EX. 

Day ofjudgnnent described, 173. 

Dead, folly of lamenting them, 7 ; crime of violatingj; 

34. 
Death, danger of sudden, 16; of Christ, its great ad 

vantages, 52; antidote against the fear of, 76; it? 

ditferent forms. 78 ; view of, 172 
Death-bed of the just, 28; of friends, finely describied 

72. 
Deception, contempt of, recommended, 146 ; how t< 

be rendered unnecessary, 146. 
Deluge described, 172. 
Devil, his sentence, 175. 
Discontent proves man immortal, 107. 
Disease, the harbinger of death, 40. 
"Diversions censured, 17. 
Dreams a proof of immortality, 7. 

Earth, not to be trusted in, 33; compared with eter 

uity, 97. 
Epitaph on the human race supposing no future exist 

ence, 124. 
Eternity described, 97. 
Evening, a svimmer's, 29. 
Bvils, natural, beneficial, 99. 
Experience corrects pride, 65. 

Faith dissipates the fear of death, 57. 

Fame, vanity of, 39; description, 114. 

Fear, of a future state, proves its reality, 134. 

Firmament described, 191. 

Florello, story of, 143. 

Folly contrasted with wisdom, 57. 

Fortune, its inutility to the wicked, ICO. 

Free-thinking, true, defined, 126. 

Friends, their value, 9, 20 ; miracles on earth, 21 ; fiH 

description of their death, C5. 
Friendship, how preserved, 21. 
Funerals, pompous, described, 209. 
Future state, complaint supposing none, 115. 

Glory, true, defined, 14!. 

God sublimely described, 45; from what cause adores 

12G ; his decrees vindicated, 172. 
Grave described, 6 ; a hell if no future state, 118. 
Greatness, true, described, 141. 
Urief the school of wisdom, CO. 



INDEX. 22j 

Happiness, present, an earnest of future pain, 7 , 
where only to be found, 20; true, defined, 153. 

Health of mind described, 152. 

Heavens, starry, questions arising from a view of, 19L 

Hell described, 167, 215. 

Hope, different kinds of, 109 ; a proof of immortality, 
131. 

Hours past, wisdom of recalling them to memory, 18. 

Idleness, the bane of the soul, 13. 

Ills proceed from man, 173; their intent, 174. 

Imagination, follies of, 154. 

Immortality, described, 81 ; its influence oa the soul, 

87. 

Infancy, described, 138. 
Infiilelity, cause of, 126. 
Infidels resemble the devil, 129. 
Instinct in animals superior to reason in man, 116. 
Joy, false, 144 ; true, 149. 

Kissing the Pope's toe, ridiculed, 159. 
Knowledge, virtue, &c. evils on the system ofinfidels, 
115. 

Laughter, half immoral, 154. 

Learning described, 60 ; true, 71. 

Life, various evils of, 10; length, how to be computed, 

76. 

Love and joy, the essence of heaven, 125. 
Lysander and Aspasia, their story, 81. 

Man, complicated nature of, 6; good, characterized, 
32 ; cause of his misery, 79 ; his heart described, 
109; melancholy picture of, 213. 

Ministers of God described, 187. 

Miracles, denned, 195; their use, 196. 

Moon's influence on the tides, 195. 

Morality, defined, 58. 

Narcissa, her death and character, 30. 

Nature compared with man, 99. 

Necessity, doctrine of, disapproved, 133. 

Night described, 5, 181, 185, 205; pre-eminence Otb? 

day, 62, 185. 
Nobility, wealth, &c. vanity of, 44. 

Obligations, null on the plaj] Of ioSdelity, 121. 
Ocean, described, 142. 



226 INDEX. 

Pai?sions, grandeur of, HI ; origin, 117. 

I^tience and resignation, supports of human peace 

160. 
Patriotism and bravery, chimerical -without a futur( 

state, 109. 
Peace and pleasure, whence derived, 147. 
Philander, effects of his last sigh, 12; death, 24. 
Philosophers, heathen, praised, 190; their doctrines^ 

190. 
Piety, its blessings, 153. 
Pleasure and pride, how reconciled, 61; origin, 151 

prohibited by conscience, unnatural, 156, 
Poetry and prose, affinity, 61. 
Praise, etiects of the love of, 113. 
Prayer, an as3']um in trouble, 198. 
Prince, a truly great, defined, 93. 
Pursuits, human, vanity of, 8. 

Questions, not to be solved without immortality, IMU 
(iuietism, what, 55. ^■ 

Reason, a proof of immortality, 108; explained, 136^1 
Redemption, descant on, 47. 
Reflection, benefits of, 23. 
Religion, blessings of, 52. 
Ruin of man, from himself, 133 

Scale of beings, 100. 

Scriptures, their value, 130; why contemned by int 

dels, 154. 
Seasons, described, 99. 

Self-knowledge, the highest wisdom, 52. '< 

Shame, why implanted in man, 113. t 

Sinner, hardened, his wretched state, 170. 
Skies, prove the being of God, 183. 
Solitude, its advantages, 30 ; the companion of safeti 

62. 
Sorrow-, the common lot of mankind, 11. 
Soul, its immortality proved by dreams, 7; for whi| 

end created, 191. 
Speech, its advantages, 25. 
Spirits, departed, their thoughts of men, 220. 
Starry heavens, benefit of viewing, 1 84. 
Stars, how kept in their places, 193; distance from tt 

earth, 201. 
Suicide, English prone to, 69; springs from despw 

166". 
Superstition, cruel, 33. 



INDEX. L- 

Tears, different sources, 71. 

Thought of death, advantageous, 33; serious, its im- 
portance, 167. 
Time, end described, 173; meeting with eternity, 178. 
Tombs, instruct, 66. 
Truth, described, 39. 

Understanding, its use, &c. 95. 
Vice defined, 213. 

Warnings, their use, 23. 
Wealth, true, described, 94. 
Wisdom, advantages of, 164. 

World, defined, 138, 141 ; man of, described, 144 ; tke 
present a grave, 171. 




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